Forgive and Forget
by PanicButton
Summary: ReidOMC Sequel to Wish You Were Here. Things go horribly wrong on a night out. Can Aaron and Emily get their acts together to help their old 'friends' Whump/slight implied Slash/no JJ or fluff
1. Chapter 1

Forgive and Forget

_When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free: - __Catherine Ponder _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He walked down the road with a pile of papers in his hand. He was being watched from a distance, but that was fine. They were both un-nerved by things recently. They decided to get some 'normality' into their lives.

He took one of the bits of paper and walked up the pathway to a house along the street he lived on. Folding it in half he was about to stick it through the letter box when the door swung open.

"What do you want?" A big gruff man. A white collar worker but he looked like he would be more at home chopping wood in a flannel shirt.

Spencer held out the bit of paper. "I – I was g going to – uh…" and a sigh.

The paper was unfolded and looked at. "A party at your place? A freaks party? Now that I gotta see."

Spencer started to back away. "Th thank you."

"What happened to your hair…Fall in front of a lawn mower?"

Spencer put a hand to his hair and gave a small smile. "No. Someone cut it." He glanced down the street towards Floyd who was still standing there watching.

"Yeah – of cause. Someone cut it." A raised eyebrow. "How silly of me to think otherwise. Count me in."

The man watched the weirdo turn and walk back down his pathway. He stuffed the bit of paper in his pocket and picked up the newspaper off the porch – still looking at the tall skinny guy from down the street. He noticed how he constantly looked back up the road to where his house mate was standing watching.

And so Reid spent the day slowly walking up the road with his bits of paper, slipping them through doors telling of a party at their place…a sort of late house warming thing. Getting to know the neighbours. How many would arrive was an unknown. They weren't the most popular couple in the street.

Having been so well isolated from everyone Spencer had lost contact with the very few friends he did have. The only other people they could ask were Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss – and anyone they would like to bring with them.

Floyd did the catering. Spencer frowned at him.

-o-o-o-

Hotch arrived alone as did Emily. Derek didn't turn up. Most of the rest of the street did though. They were curious about this odd couple who lived down the road and seemed to have bad luck with explosions and other strange happenings. Mrs Colgate insisted the place was haunted – and such strange smell sometimes. She brought a cake with her as a gift to the couple who she saw a few times holding hands and once kissing. But not recently.

Spencer had been told what to wear and having no fight in him that day he just dragged on the black jeans and red sleeveless Tshirt without an objection. Floyd had suggested he tried to do something with the mop he had for hair – but short of cutting it all off and starting again there wasn't much he could do with it. Floyd always full of good ideas gave him his old western style hat to wear.

"I can't wear this! I look like – I don't know what I look like, but I don't look like me."

"Oh it's ok for me to wear but not you? You don't like it?" He was frowning at Spencer.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I just don't think it looks right on me." Floyd snatched it off Spencer's head again.

"Fine – look stupid then." He threw the hat down on the bed and walked out.

Reid stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself and sipped on the hot sweet coffee Floyd had brought him.

People did arrive. A lot of people but Spencer didn't really remember much of it. He spent most of his time standing with his back tightly against the wall watching the 'guests' eat their food. Not one of the neighbours approached him to talk – and not being the most social person on the planet he wasn't going to go and talk to them. Hotch stood with him for a while and chatted about nothing. Spencer couldn't talk back. His head was swimming and fuzzy and he thought if he actually opened his mouth to say anything he would throw up.

As predicted the food went down well, but Aaron didn't eat. It was the early hours of the morning and some people had said their goodbyes after having a good nose around the place – that Floyd came over to Spencer.

"Miserable little sod tonight. What's wrong with you?"

Reid looked into the dark eyes and shrugged.

"Go and lay down – you look pissed."

"I've only had coffee."

"Go and lay down. I will be with you soon." He took Reid by the arm and directed him down the hallway to the bedroom door. "Get in there and sleep some of this mood off will you?"

Spencer turned to Floyd. "I'm not in mood and I'm not drunk."

"Then you are doing this just to annoy me?"

"Doing what? I don't know what I am meant to have done!"

Floyd put a hand out and placed it on the side of Spencer's face. "I need to talk to you about something at some point. Go lay down. Sleep off whatever is bothering you and tomorrow we can start again. I know this isn't your sort of thing."

He moved closer and kissed Spencer gently on the lips.

"Rest babes. I will be in later."

He closed the door and walked over to the bed. Slowly he pulled off the clothes he had been wearing and got into his lovely comfy bed. There was no chance of him falling asleep – not with the noise from other parts of the house and so it was a surprise when he realised he had been woken up by someone on the bed behind him. Hands pushed at his back and kisses ran over the back of his neck. Something was wrong. He knew it was wrong. The hands too soft but not hurting either. This person was gentle and this was comfort not ragged rough spiteful sex and so he kept his eyes closed and let it happen. The consequences of his actions he was prepared to take for this little bit of peace.

-o-o-o-

Floyd didn't wake him. He slept on the couch alone with an extra wad of money in his pocket for services rendered and a small niggling thing in his heart called guilt.

He had almost finished clearing up when Spencer finally showed his face.

"You should have called me."

"Uh hu – maybe – but you were still sleeping."

"I would have liked to have helped though."

"You did in your own way babes. Come here and have a good morning hug."

He took a step backwards. "I need a shower."

"No babes – come here first. Shower after."

Spencer walked slowly towards him. "Floyd…."

"Don't talk just get over here."

Reid could see by the way Floyd was standing that his knee was bothering him today. He walked closer until Floyd reached out and grabbed him by his bathrobe.

Spencer just stood there with his hands by his side as Floyd's hands snaked behind his head and pulled him in closer.

"A good morning kiss Spence." He whispered in Reid's ear but the fear that Floyd would smell someone else on his skin and in his hair was making him shake.

It was a lip crushing toe curling kiss. It stated out on Spencer's mouth but soon began its journey southwards. He felt the hands now slide up under his robe. One hand gently rested on his hip and the other reached around and held him close.

Spencer placed his hands on the top of Floyd's head and twisted his finger through his hair as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. If Floyd could smell someone else on him – it didn't seem to be bothering him at all.

He showered alone. He could now. Floyd seemed more and more determined not to wash. Reid had even mentioned that he missed their joint adventures in the shower, but Floyd refused. There was a few things he didn't like doing now and stripping off was one of them. Spencer didn't know when the last time it was that he had seen Floyd even topless.

After the shower he pulled his bath robe back on and went to the lounge. He grabbed a book and flopped back on the couch and opened the first page. A book he hadn't read. Floyd found it for him and he was looking forwards to reading it. He had been told no more than a chapter a day. He swivelled around so that his feet were on the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest and rested the book there.

Something made him look up. Floyd was standing in the corner of the room just staring at him. His arms down at his side and his head slightly to one side.

"Floyd – what's wrong?"

"Oh babes nothing. I was just thinking – you fancy going out tonight?"

"Where do you fancy?"

"The club. I want to go to the club." He just stood unmoving in the corner.

"I really would rather not go there."

"I know – but you will anyway."

Spencer looked down at the book and read it in just under twenty minutes. He placed it on the couch next to him and looked up to see Floyd still standing in the corner watching him.

"What are you doing? Come and sit with me or something." Spencer moved over and patted the couch.

"Spence – do you hate me?"

Reid looked back up at him. "You know I don't hate you."

"So you forgive me then?"

"Forgive you for what?"

"The past. Things – stuff."

"I forgive you. Now will you stop creeping me out and come and sit."

"The future?"

"What about it?" Spencer wrapped his arms tightly around him.

"If something happened. Something you didn't agree with. Do you think you would ever forgive me?" He started to walk towards the couch limping slightly.

"How can I say I will forgive something which hasn't happened yet? I can't say I will." Floyd sat next to Spencer and rubbed his knee.

"I would like to think that you could."

"Well I have a pretty bad track record when it comes to bearing a grudge."

"So you could maybe forgive a future transgression."

"I would think so." Spencer ran a finger down the side of Floyd's face. "But if you are going to smack me around – just do it gently."

"Babes…"

It seemed to Spencer that he had something he needed to say. Floyd seemed almost sad? "OK – we will go to the club, but I'm not going up on the balcony and I don't want you wandering off."

A small half smirk. "Thanks babes." He picked up the book he got for Spencer. "Was it any good?"

A smile and a nod. "Thanks yes."

-o-o-o-

He was wearing: (for a change) a white shirt but no waistcoat. He had on suspenders with his jeans and a chunky old belt. The shirt was without a collar and Floyd had doubled a length of pale blue silk around his neck and tied it loosely at the front. He had on an ancient much repaired pair of black boots and leather fingerless gloves. Floyd had his hair tucked behind his ears where it hung almost to his collar in dirty greasy strings. He looked dirty and tired.

He was wearing: black mesh sleeveless Tshirt and low cut black cords. He also had on black boots. His hair had been washed and he was having a seriously bad hair day. Floyd had insisted that it was not his hair people would be looking at…not with the fine arse he had.

Spencer stayed close. He knew they would be looked at. Stared at. The last time they were here Spencer had swan dived from the balcony onto his head. The last time he was here Spencer thought he was dead. But the music thumped and the dancers danced – and the paid dancers got money stuffed behind their underwear and although this was not a place Reid would ever have chosen to visit a few months ago, now he could almost relax.

They got a few looks but Floyd spoke in Spencer's ear and told him it was purely because he was the hottest thing here and nothing to do with smashing his head open on the dance floor. They got a drink of beer each and leaned on the bar taking in the atmosphere of the place.

"Dance?" Floyd had his arm around Spencer's waist. Reid looked at Floyd and put his bottle on the bar.

They walked hand in hand Floyd leading the way out to the dance floor. Spencer put his arms around Floyd's shoulder and Floyd in turn put his hands down holding onto Spencer's hip. The music was fast and hard and bouncy but they just held on tight exchanging kisses on the necks and lips.

Another pair of hands suddenly joined in but Spencer didn't see the look Floyd gave this other person. His eyes were closed just enjoying the moment. The new hands wear resting on his bare stomach and the new mouth was licking and kissing at the back of his neck. Spencer groaned softly as the two men pulled in closer the hands moving and exploring his body. A hand sliding down the back of his cords as another moved up his chest drawing small circles on his skin with what felt like long sharp fingernails. When the second person moved away again Floyd moved Spencer back up against a wall. A small frown crossed his face and he turned quickly to look behind him. When he turned back Floyd moved his hands up so he had one on either side of Spencer's face and he looked deep into his hazel eyes.

Spencer looked back into Floyd's dark eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing babes…just wanted a good look at you. In case I forget."

"Forget?"

"Uh – yes. Forget it Spence." And he ran his tongue across Spencer lips. "Let's get out of here."

"We only just got here – I thought this is what you wanted to do."

"Yeah well a girl can change her mind. We need to go. Now."

"I would like another drink first."

"We can go to the bar down the road. Move it now."

He took Spencer by the forearm and started to pull him away from the wall.

The thumping of the music and the jumping and shouting of the dancers at first disguised what was going on. The first Reid realised something was wrong was when Floyd suddenly lurched into him and then the person standing next to him suddenly didn't have a head. He felt Floyd sliding downwards pulling Reid down with him. He was shouting something Spencer couldn't hear. The music still thumping the people screaming – he hit the floor with Floyd who wrapped an arm tightly around him. They curled into each other as now the music stopped and all they could here was the fire from a couple of automatic weapons and the screams of terrified and injured clubbers.

Reid felt Floyd slowly move so he was laying over him. "Keep still babes. Play dead."

Spencer who was laying on his side could see the blood spreading over the front of Floyd's chest. He slowly moved a hand up and touched it. "Oh god you've been shot."

"Hush. Keep still. Close your eyes babes. I don't want them to see you."

Spencer lay on the floor slowly getting wetter from the blood oozing from Floyd – who was whispering calming words to Spencer who was breathing in short sharp breaths.

"It's going to be fine. Just keep still stay quiet – the cops will be here soon. I'm here – don't worry. Just stay calm and keep still."

The automatic fire had stopped now. Floyd could see someone moving amongst the people laying on the floor. Some of them they turned over to see the faces. They seemed to be looking for someone or a type of someone. Every now and then someone would shout out and a gun would fire.

"Floyd – I can't lay here and listen to people getting murdered. Get off me – let me talk to them."

"Shh – be quiet. Are you mad?"

"Please get off me. I need to try to talk to them."

"It's not your job to do that anymore. Your job is to….." He didn't finish his sentence. A hand grabbed him by his waistband and pulled him back away from Spencer. Reid looked up at the barrel of a gun. He lay staring at it wondering why Floyd wasn't attacking.

"Get up." The gun pressed against his forehead. "Get up and keep your hands where I can see them." Slowly – very slowly Spencer got to his knees and then to his feet. He tried to see what Floyd was doing, but a quick glance out of the corner of his eye and didn't let him see. He could hear the sound of fist on flesh but it was happening out of his visual range. The gun was still pressing against his head as the tall blonde guy smiled at him. Spencer heard the safety being released on the pistol and he closed his eyes ready.

"Oh you silly boy – I'm not going to kill you. Not yet. Not this quickly. I am going to have a lot of fun with your first – and your little friend isn't going to be able to do a thing about it." A strong waft of cinnamon and honey met Spencer as the man grinned. "We always have the best of fun when we go clubbing don't we Spencer. Now move along. We haven't got all night." The man turned to look behind him. "Bring him. We don't want to leave our rubbish behind."

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**A/N: Ok….don't really know about this….tell me if you want this continued …or shall I dump it and start something else?? Pb**

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	2. Chapter 2 Tricks

Chapter 2

Tricks

_Men are so simple and yield so readily to the desires of the moment th__at he who will __trick__ will always find another who will suffer to be tricked__: - __Niccolo Machiavelli _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They were dragged and prodded and moved quickly. Reid now had the gun prodding in his back and couldn't see what was going on with Floyd, but he didn't seem to be fighting. Reid could hear behind him someone was being dragged, but on the way through more people were picked from the floor and pushed along with them. They were taken out via the fire exit into the side ally way.

"Where are you taking us?" the reply was a punch in the back of his head. Spencer staggered forwards nearly losing his footing.

Reid was pushed with the rest of them face first against the wall. He still hadn't seen Floyd or if Floyd was even with them. The group of six were then told to put their hands behind their backs. One at a time they had flexicuffs wrapped around their wrists. When it came to Spencer he kept his hands at his side.

"Please let these others go. If it is me you want just let them go." Brains which had previously been inside the head of the young man standing next to him splattered up the wall and across the side of Spencer's face. Reid put his hands against the wall to stop himself from passing out or screaming.

"Hands please Spencer."

The fact that his name was used made his head swim even more, but slowly he put his hands behind his back and felt them being roughly bound.

Each then was picked up and thrown into the back of a waiting van.

-o-o-o-

The cops arrived and saw a blood bath. They took names of the people who were still there and able to talk. They lay covers over the dead and took care of those who needed hospital treatment.

Each person's description of the UnSub was different. They all agreed on there being two people, but they did seem all have seen slightly different men. Some reported short dark guys whereas some reported tall and blonde or short and blonde. Fat and skinny, muscular and gaunt. No one seemed to be able to describe the same person.

The main problem was that a lot of these people had no ID on them – if they did it was fake. No one seemed to know anyone else's names.

They stood and looked at the remains of the carnage.

Hotch and Prentiss walked around the inside of the building looking at the yellow markers the CSU had placed. Twenty five bodies had been removed from the premises. One from outside. Six young men had died since being taken to the hospital.

As all reports on what had happened seemed to differ from person to person the BAU had been called in to try to profile the scene and work out what had gone on here.

Again they had talked to witnesses and again everyone said something slightly different and so now the two of them stood on the dance floor where then UnSubs had stood and looked around at the mess. The mirrors were shot out – everything was full of bullet holes. How anyone had gotten out alive was short of a miracle and not really surprising that they either saw nothing or remembered it incorrectly.

Some people had said how the men had taken a few hostages with them. No one had been robbed. Nothing had been taken except for a few people and with the security cameras not picking up much more than flashing lights there wasn't much to go on. Garcia had the tapes and was trying to find something – anything on them, but so far nothing. There were no signing in books or memberships required. Just cash on the door.

Prentiss shook her head. "Why would someone do this? It just makes no sense. There is no message, there are no demands – yet. Why come in here and shoot a load of people and then walk around killing some of the wounded and then take some with you?"

Hotch looked at Prentiss and sighed. "They were looking for someone. Or targeting a certain type. I want to see the names of the ones who took the single shot. They were singled out and I want to know why. All the shooting took place here in the middle of the floor. Maximum damage in the shortest amount of time and then they took their times looking at the dead. This was controlled and planned."

-o-o-o-

Derek was with Rossi walking around the outside of the building. They stopped and looked at where the guy had been killed execution style against the wall and looked at blood drops on the ground again marked by yellow markers. Apparently a vehicle had been parked here and a dropped pair of flexicuffs let them know that hostages had been bound and taken from this spot.

The carried on walking around the building to the taped off parking lot at the rear of the club. No one had been permitted to take their vehicle away yet. They needed to know if any of the cars and vans belonged to any of the dead.

Morgan stood and looked at the few rows of vehicles. His eyes swept along the length to the bay at the end. His stomach did a small jump and he touched Rossi on the arm and started to walk quickly forwards.

The end bay held a big black Harley.

"Hey!" Morgan called out to the cop who was in charge of the lot. "This bike. The owner has claimed it?"

The cop came over to where Morgan was standing. "All claimed vehicles have been tagged."

Morgan looked at the bike again. "Where is the tag for the bike?"

"If there is no tag then no one has claimed it."

Derek took a few steps back and looked again at the big dark bike and then turned to Rossi. "It's Flanders bike."

"Are you sure?" Rossi frowned.

"Yes I am sure."

Derek pulled his phone off his belt and called Hotch. "We have a problem."

-o-o-o-

The room was huge and circular. Everything seemed to be painted black. The floor was some kind of black stone. He stood still wearing what he had put on goodness knew when for a night at the club. His hands were still held behind his back and now a short heavy chain held his ankle to a ring embedded in the cold floor. He could just about see the edges of the room. The others who had been brought here with him were standing at the wall fairly evenly spaced. They were all standing facing him.

Spencer turned in a tight circle to see if he could see Floyd amongst them, but he didn't seem to be there. Was he still back at the club? He wasn't even sure it was Floyd they had kicked and then dragged out with them. He didn't want to call out of make a fuss – he still had the sticky remains of someone's brains on the side of his face to remind him of what happened if he tried to talk to them – or resist them.

He wanted to talk to the guy with the funny smell. He wanted to ask him to let the others go and he would do what he told him, but the guy wasn't there. Just the people staring at him from the edges of the room. More people than had been taken from the club.

When he became so tired that his legs were shaking and the room began to spin he crouched on the floor. Still nothing. Just the occasional crying from one of the other people in the round room.

-o-o-o-

Floyd sat with his legs crossed. The blood on his chest had dried stiff on his shirt. He was pissed off. He was very pissed off. Once again someone was interfering. The room he was in was very opulent. They hadn't been stingy on the luxuries they gave to Floyd. Deep velvet cushions and weird shaped bottles full of wonderful mixtures. Small boxes of different sorts of powders and small bottles with syringes laying next to them. There were manacles hanging off the walls and shelves covered in every toy you would ever want or need. He had walked around and had a look. He had smoked something from a small tobacco tin standing on a tiny ancient cupboard.

He had looked at the boys in the cage at the end of the room and even ran his hand over the face of one of them. Small boys. Thin boys. Boys willing to play. He returned to a big pile of cushions and rugs in the middle of the room which smelled strongly of some incense and waited. He knew he would turn up eventually and he knew there would be an offer.

When the door opened Floyd didn't even look up. He saw the booted feet stop in front of him and he heard the voice.

"So you want to know what the offer is?"

"It doesn't matter what the offer is, Ren, Spencer isn't for sale."

A hand – not Ren's hand – a big clawed hard hand reached down and took hold of Floyd's hair and pulled him to his feet. He stood now looking over Ren's shoulder.

"Everyone has his price Floyd. Do you like this place? Everything you would ever want. I can keep you in a manner you have always desired – and have actually lived like before – I can give it all back to you. This has got to be better than living in a stuffy little house with your stuffy little boyfriend entertaining your neighbours."

"He's not for sale Ren – and I like my stuffy little boyfriend and our stuffy little house."

"I will show you how the job should be done."

"Tell your goon to let go of my hair and I know how to do my job Ren, I don't need guidance notes from you."

"You will fail again and there will be no more chances. You will be finished. Let me do the job for you. Then you will be free of him."

The hand left the top of his head and Floyd took a step back. "I don't want this crap Ren. I need you to return me and Spencer and for you to stop this silly game. I'm not impressed with this pathetic show of – power – whatever it is. We had a fair match. I won. Live with it."

"Fabulous – you have made your position on the matter very clear. I will have to take the other route. I will ask Spencer to give you up for me."

"He wouldn't do that." Again Floyd was stepping back.

"Don't be so sure."

-o-o-o-

Firstly Hotch called the house but just got the answer phone. He tried Reid's cell and that went to voicemail.

"I need someone sent over to the house ASAP to check if they are there."

Hotch then stood again and looked at the carnage around him. Prentiss stood at his side. "I will get Garcia to check the hospitals." She took out her phone and made a call.

Then there was the morgue.

The four of them got back into their SUV in silence. No one wanted the job of looking at bodies to see if they could ID Reid or Flanders.

"I'll go." Rossi finally said. "I didn't have the same emotional attachment that you did."

"I'll come with you." Emily's voice was steady and strong. " It will be quicker if there are two of us."

Hotch held tightly onto the wheel of the vehicle and closed his eyes. "You know you won't find Flanders there. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all something he had planned in the first place."

Morgan looked at Hotch's reflection in the central mirror. "Hotch man, why would he do this."

Aaron shook his head. "Why does he do anything? For fun? To amuse himself?"

Prentiss spoke again. "Then Reid isn't dead?"

"How do you know?" Rossi looked over at Prentiss who was sitting next to him in the back of the car.

"Because Flanders needs Reid – so if this was his doing, then they are somewhere safe."

"But the bike?" Morgan again. "Why leave the bike. Why not claim it and get a cab home? Why not stay around and help us? Reid wouldn't leave the scene of something like this unless he had to and there are only a limited number of ways that could have happened."

"They took him with them, or he is dead." Prentiss looked out of the window.

Hotch spoke again. "Let us assume that Flanders had some sort of involvement here. If that is the case then Reid is still alive somewhere. They both are and the taking of hostages is just a cover manipulated by Flanders. Two people opened fire in there. We know that Flanders is able to alter things. Change things so that people are misled and thoughts are confused. We know he can put thoughts and images into people's minds."

"I know what you are saying Hotch, but Reid wouldn't do that. Open fire like that on a crowd of people? That's just not Reid. I will hurry Garcia up with the security tapes but you know what, if Floyd had anything to do with it they will be blank."

"Hotch turned and looked hard at Morgan. You forget how well I know Flanders and this is not by any means beyond him. I am not saying this was him, I am saying it could well have been. If not Flanders with the weapon, then arranged by him. It is something we have to think about – but it doesn't mean that we stop looking for other reasons for this. I just cannot think why this was done."

-o-o-o-

He was curled up on the floor by the time something new happened and when it happened it was painful.

When the pain started he opened his eyes to find he was in complete darkness. He tried to curl up tighter and protect him self but with his hands behind his back still there was no way he could stop whoever his way from kicking the side of his head and stamping down on his shoulder – which was now going numb because of the length of time he had his hands wrenched behind him.

He tried to slide away from the attack but someone else pulled him back and then up to his feet. Spencer still couldn't see who it was and not having hands to defend himself with he felt horribly vulnerable.

Spencer felt someone cut the cuffs off his wrists and then remove the one around his ankle. Although he was happy to be free he was in pain and confused. A familiar voice spoke to him from a short way off.

"Strip off babes."

"Floyd?" Spencer turned on the spot trying to work out where Floyd was.

"Just do it." His voice sounded harsh and angry.

He started to walk towards the voice when something grabbed him by the hair. "Stand still and do as you are told."

"No." He tried to slap the hand away out of his hair. "No I won't do it."

The hand in his hair twisted him so he had to turn to his right. Over in the darkness a light had lit up one of the people standing at the edge and walking towards that person was Floyd.

The man at the wall was in jeans and a tight Tshirt.

And now another voice. "Listen to me little scum boy. You will do as you are told or you little chum Floyd over there will begin to play with that poor young man."

Reid stood and watched Floyd turn the man around and slowly undo the man's jeans. He pulled them down to his knees and turned to smirk at Spencer.

"You listen to me – That is not Floyd. I don't know what your game is but this wont work."

The light he had been illuminating the scene went out and all Spencer could hear was the man's screams.

"Strip."

Spencer looked into the darkness and listened to the sounds he had the power to stop.

"Just stop it. Leave him alone. If it's me you are so interested in – just stop – I'll do it." His hands still tingling and in pain from the sudden release fumbled at the front of the trousers Floyd had picked out for him that evening. He pushed them down his thighs but left his underwear on. "My boots. I need to take my boots off."

He sat back on the floor and pulled off his boots and then stood again pushing his trousers slowly off. The screaming had stopped but he didn't know if it was because the guy was dead or if he had been left alone. As he kicked off the clothing his foot was grabbed and fastened back onto the ring.

And now with sounds of howling animals in his ears and the roar of wings in the back of his mind he cried out in pain as they started to play their first little game with Spencer.

-o-o-o-

It became quite clear to Rossi and Prentiss after a while why some of these men had been chosen specially. With most of the face blown away it was hard to tell with some of them if they were the person they were looking for. It was especially difficult for Rossi who didn't know Reid as well. Some of the bodies Rossi wasn't sure about Emily was able to say wasn't Reid. However they were left with three possibles.

Prentiss stood and looked at the body bags and sighed. The people inside had been shot to pieces. The faces gone and the bodies torn apart. Even the hands were ripped and mashed.

"This has been done on purpose. Rossi this wasn't accidental that these three could match. Why would someone do this? It's just so sick. Which one is him?"

Rossi could see the extreme distress on Emily's face. "There is nothing to say any of these are him. As you say – why would someone go to the trouble to do this unless they are hiding the truth? I very much doubt that Reid is here."

Prentiss nodded. "And Floyd definitely isn't. So where the hell are they?"

-o-o-o-

Floyd was laying back on the rugs with a smile on his face when the door was opened and Spencer was thrown into the room.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3 Bribe

Chapter 3

Bribe

_Every man has his price_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He stumbled forwards a couple of paces and fell to his knees. They had completed the stripping process for him and dressed him in a belt cloth made of a soft brown leather. For a second or two the two men just looked at each other.

"Get off. Sod off. Get off me." Floyd pushed away the two boys who had been the reason for the smile of Floyd's face. They clung to him and ran dirty little fingers through Floyds filthy hair. He sat up pushing the skinny kids off him and pulled his trousers part the way back up. "Spence." he was trying to untangle him self from the cushions and rugs and boys and get over to where Reid was slowly crawling backwards away from him.

"Babes it's only me." He could feel small hands touching his feet and pulling at his clothing. Floyd reached out a hand to Spencer. "Spence what did they do to you?"

"Don't you touch me." A low hissing voice from Reid. "Don't come near me." He backed up until he was against the cold wall.

Flanders stopped moving and knelt on the rugs in front of Spencer. "I'm not going to hurt you Spence. Just tell me what they did to you." Again the boys were draping themselves over Floyd touching and teasing him. He grabbed hold of one of them and pushed him aside. "I told you to go away. Go back to your cage." Slowly they backed off and left Floyd to talk to Spencer.

"You know what they did to me. What everyone ever does to me." He was sitting now with his arms wrapped around his knees which were pulled in tightly to him. "I was out there having that done to me and you are in here having an orgy. Thank you Floyd – if that's who you are."

Floyd could see dried blood on Reid's legs and the scratches and bite marks covering his torso.

"Spence – I didn't plan this. I had no idea where you were."

"You didn't plan this? Why do I find that so hard to believe? You let them do that." Indicating the boys who were back in the cages. "I was – I was – and you were getting a blow job? Gee Floyd even I'm not allowed to do that."

"This isn't what it looks like."

"I don't want to listen to you lies Floyd. Just get away from me."

Now Flanders moved in closer. "I didn't choose this."

Spencer looked at the hand carefully resting on his arm and then up to Floyd's eyes. "What did you plan then? This is what you little speech was about. Forgiving. You want me to forgive you this? You really think it's going to be that easy. Someone is dead due to my direct actions. I killed an innocent person. I can still feel his brains sticking to the side of my face and you are saying this has nothing to do with you? You are a liar Floyd. Keep away from me and get your disgusting hands off me."

"Fair dues Spence. I have done some pretty despicable things, but this is not my doing."

"Liar." He shook Floyds hand off his arm.

"Just let me explain. Let me try to tell you what they are doing – what Ren is doing."

"Ren – who is Ren?"

"He's the bloke who chopped me half to death with an axe and he wants you." Floyd ran his fingers through Spencer's hair. "He offered me all this shit if I offered you to him."

"And you accepted. Thank you." He lifted a hand and removed Floyd's hand from his hair.

"No I didn't accept it. I would never trade you for this. This I can get anywhere."

"I saw you. I saw what you were doing when I was brought here. I might be confused and I might be in pain but I'm not completely blind. Not yet anyway."

"Oh babes – that was nothing. I was just taking samples of the goods on offer. A couple of tasters." Floyd smiled at his own joke which Spencer either didn't hear or didn't understand."

"Leave me alone." A muttered few words and Floyd could tell by the shaking of the shoulders that they were all the words Spencer would have been able to say.

"I would never trade you babes. Listen – you need to hear this from me. We are bonded. You and I we have like this special thing between us. Ren wants you and he wants me out of the way – by taking you from me he will succeed. I would have failed again and will be once again banished and you will be Ren's fuck bunny."

"What's stopping him? I seem to be his fuck bunny already."

Floyd winced and crept closer trying to put an arm around Reid's shoulder. "He is trying to break you Spence. He thinks I will give in and trade you for this. I don't know what he is offering you, but he will be expecting you to trade it for him."

"Then why has he put us together Floyd? So you can tell me his cunning plan? So I will be prepared for him?"

"So you can see what he has offered me. So you will hurt all the more knowing I am here being looked after and fed as watered and fucked and whatever I want while you have – what have they offered you?"

Reid pushed his hair off his face and looked at Floyd. "They didn't offer me anything. They – you – someone – it was me or them. I can't let someone go through that because of my personal feelings."

"Are you sure it was real."

"Well it felt real when – when…."

"That's not what I meant. Come with me over here. Lay down and rest."

"I am responsible for those lives and you want me to rest?"

Floyd removed his arm from around Spencer and took a quick look around the room. He jumped to his feet and went over to a small cabinet on the wall. Behind the glass doors was a row of small bottles – each with a symbol drawn on the side. He pulled open one of the cabinet doors and picked up a small green bottle. He closed the door again and pulled out the stopper and inhaled the scent. He carefully replaced the stopper and looked over at Spencer who had his head back down on his knees.

Spencer didn't want to talk to Floyd. He was having a problem working out what was truth. He felt the arm around him and he knew Floyd was trying to comfort and take away some of the pain, but it wasn't working. He heard the words and they made no sense to him so when the arm left his shoulders again and Floyd got up and moved away it was a relief. He put his head on his knees and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to make everything go away, but this like everything else would be there forever piling up in the back of his mind and eating slowly away at him.

When Floyd suddenly pounced he wasn't expecting it and let out a surprised 'umph' as he was pushed onto his side and then turned onto his back. He looked up at Flanders with big eyes as he pulled his knees up towards him again trying to protect his body from what he expected to happen. When the hand grabbed his jaw and not his neck he began to panic slightly. He tried to clamp his jaw together, but that didn't bother Floyd. The top of a small bottle was rammed between his lips and a cold sweet liquid was poured in. Teeth didn't protect him from this and now the hand over his mouth and face.

Spencer pulled at the hand with his and tried to push Floyd off but the hand was firmly in place preventing any spitting.

Floyd almost – but not quite – hated doing this to Spence. Floyd in fact loved doing this sort of thing to Spence. He had almost forgotten how good this felt. He knelt next to him and looked at the fingers clawing at his hand and at the big eyes staring at him – almost like they were accusing him of something. He watched as the fingers stopped pulling at his hand and Spencer seemed to almost relax under him. He knew Reid had swallowed the liquid long ago. He could take his hand away now but those eyes looking back at him was making him feel good and stirring feelings inside of him he had partly forgotten about. So as the struggling stopped and Reid lay still and his eyes lost focus Floyd slowly removed his hand and replaced it with a kiss.

"This is what you need to forgive me for." He muttered as he pulled Reid into position and carried on doing to him what Ren had started.

-o-o-o-

The security tapes showed nothing, as it was expected.

There was no sign that Reid or Flanders had even been in the club let alone been involved in anyway in the shooting. There camera outside where the final body had been found wasn't working anyway. There was nothing.

"This is crazy. No sign that they were even here. We don't know that they were. No one remembers seeing them. No one remembers anything." Prentiss was wearing a hole in the flooring with her pacing up and down. Morgan was surprised to see her so bothered about Reid. Hotch knew it wasn't Reid she was bothered about and knew that he was going to have to watch the development of this 'friendship' very closely.

"And no ransom." Rossi interjected. "Which is what makes me wonder what this is all about. I really think this is to do with who was taken. They have no intention of giving them back. If Reid was here I am sure he would give us accurate figures on how many people go missing off the streets and from places like this." Pointing at a photo of the club up on the board. "Every year. The numbers are not good reading."

Prentiss stopped her marching and looked at Rossi. "You are saying they have been taken for the sex trade? You really think that someone like Flanders would have gone that easily?"

"It makes me wonder all the more of how much involvement Flanders had in this."

-o-o-o-

When he awoke he was laying again on the dark surface with the restraint around his ankle. The darkness was total, but he could hear people crying and calling for help.

Spencer wondered for a short while – maybe all of thirty seconds – if what had happened with Floyd had been real, but he knew it was and if it wasn't it was how it had been. He put a hand to his mouth. He could still taste the liquid Floyd had forced down him, but there was a sharp bitter taste there too, one he knew well from the past. He closed his eyes and curled up tight. At least he had his hands free this time. That at least was a good thing. His fingers found the cuff holding him in place and he was slightly surprised that it was a leather contraption with buckles. He looked out into the darkness again and ran his fingers over the metal studs and clasps. Slowly with trembling hands he slipped the leather out of the buckles and unwrapped the thing off his ankle.

It was too easy. He knew it was too easy. It was a trick of some kind but to lay there and do nothing was insanity. To try to escape from this place wasn't totally sane either.

Spencer rubbed at his foot and then slowly stood up. There was no way of telling if there was a door out of here, but he knew there must be and so taking a deep breath and knowing the monsters in the dark were real he began to walk in a hopefully straight line. Keeping the cry of a particular person to his right.

He hurt. It felt as though he had been mugged by twenty people and in a way he had. Still in the belt cloth he walked carefully until he heard a voice.

"I knew you would try something. They said you would behave and stay put, but I knew."

Spencer turned on the spot trying to work out where the voice was coming from. "Where are you? What do you want?"

"Spencer, I have someone with me and this someone isn't very happy to be with me. I am sure he would rather he was back at the wall, or maybe even at home, but Spencer you have been silly and so that might not happen now."

Reid was still trying to work out where the voice was coming from, but it seemed to be all around him.

"You – you have me, let him go. If it is me you want – you don't want him."

Reid heard someone cry out in pain and again turned trying to find out where the sound was coming from. "Go back to your place Spencer and I will stop this."

A scream echoed through the circular room.

"Stop it! I'm here if you want me – leave him alone!"

Another scream of pain.

"Get back to your place and it will stop."

Spencer turned again trying to work out where he had come from and started to walk with the sounds of someone being tortured and god only knew what else.

"I don't know where it is! Stop it! I show me where I need to go." He had broken into a run now – hurtling blindly in the darkness his bare feet slipping on the floor in his rush to find the ring in the floor somewhere out here in the darkness.

A long drawn out howl caused Spencer to partly turn in his run. It sounded so close but momentum still took him forwards into the wall he was heading for. The sound stopped abruptly as his head made contact with the wall and he slid into an ungainly heap on the floor.

-o-o-o-

He awoke in a small circle of light. His head throbbed and he was again restrained by his ankle and his hands behind his back. As he groaned and moved slightly he realised he was laying in something moist and sticky. Spencer rolled onto his front and looked to his side to see where it was coming from and saw then eviscerated remains of what was once a young man still in his ripped vinyl trousers and top. The intestines had spilt over the floor and the brains sprayed out behind him.

Reid moved quickly to the side. Attempting to get away from the mess on the floor. He scrabbled to his knees and could now see parts of the dead man stuck to his chest and stomach. He could feel bits sliding off his hair and down his face and with his hands firmly behind his back there wasn't much he could do except empty his stomach of its contents.

He knelt on the floor next to the ring with the dead man behind him and stared off into the darkness.

"Spencer." The voice was right next to his shoulder. "You should have done what we told you and return to your place. Now – I am going to ask you – would you try that again?"

Reid didn't answer.

"Poor manners from such a nice young man. My next question – I would like you to rescind your bond with Floyd."

Reid didn't answer.

"After all he drugged and raped you and got you into this mess in the first place. I would be so much kinder to you."

Still no answer.

"Let me take you to him. Get up."

-o-o-o-

Floyd had sampled most of the powders and drinks available. He sampled the boys too. He had tired different things to smoke and then sampled the boys again…and then he drank some more and the boys sampled him and now he was exhausted and very content resting on the big deep cushions on the floor. Could life be like this with Spencer? He picked up a bottle and took a long deep swig.

He barely looked up when Reid again was pushed into the room.

"Spence. You're back. Come and have a drink with me babes."

Reid stood and looked at the mess Floyd was in. Only half dressed and obviously drugged and drunk. He tried to turn and leave the room but the door was already closed and locked and so he just stood and looked at the man on the floor.

"Spence."

Reid backed away from Floyd who was now on his hands and knees crawling towards him.

"You are – I don't even know where to start! Floyd what the hell are you playing at? What is all this?"

"Oh babes – don't you worry about this shit – this is just crap – I can get this anywhere." His hands slid out from under him and he fell sideways onto the floor. "Ooops. Spence – gimme a hand."

"You couldn't resist this for a few hours? What is wrong with you? The lives of dozens of people rely on yours and my actions here. I am fighting for them and you are stuffing god only knows what up your nose and drinking from strange coloured bottles. Which reminds me…"

"Oh shut up – you are such a bore when you get like this. Learn to relax a bit sometimes."

"They want me to rescind my bond." Spencer stood with his arms still held behind his back and watch Floyd pull himself up and begin his crawl forward.

"It would kill me babes. Well not actually kill me. I would be banished. You don't want that of me do you?" His hands were now touching Spencer's feet.

"Right now I don't much care."

"And that is what they want. You can see that cant you? What the fuck is that all over you?"

"Someone they killed because of me"

Floyd's hands were making their way up Reid's thighs. "I see – I think I need to take your mind off it."

Spencer took a step back to get away from Floyd but a tight hand suddenly around his ankle sent him tripping back and sitting on the floor.

"Come on Spence let me get you all relaxed. Take that moody frown off your face."

Reid kicked out with his feet trying to keep the drunk and doped Floyd away from him. "Why don't you just drug me like last time?"

Floyd crawled along the length of Spencer's sticky body. Every now and then stopping to lick at something. One hand pulled away the front flap on the meagre bit of clothing he still had and the other gently stroked Spencer's face.

Even in the condition he was in there wasn't much Spencer could do to stop it and strangely after a few minutes he did start to relax, though if because Floyd's breath was so heavy with alcohol and narcotics that he just passed it on, or because Floyd was the god of sex he seemed to be thinking he was Spencer didn't know….but he relaxed and lay with his hands behind him and took all Floyd had to offer.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4 Temptation

Chapter 4

_That's all __drugs__ and alcohol do, they cut off your emotions in the end__: - __Ringo Starr _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

"Floyd?" He was laying on Spencer. He had been biting at his shoulders and kissing on his neck but he suddenly stopped. "Floyd?!" Reid tried to pull himself out from under him but without the use of his arms it wasn't going to be easy. "Floyd! Wake up." But the drink drugs and exertion had finally taken their toll and Floyd was completely out of it.

Spencer looked over at the boys who were watching. "A bit of help here?" But they scuttled back to their cages. "Wonderful – Floyd please wake up – we need to talk about things." But Flanders was a dead weight across Spencer and he wasn't going to be able to wake him. He didn't know the last time he had seen Floyd in such a mess. Again he wriggled and tried to get out from under him, but he was securely pinned in place. There was nothing he could do but lay back and wait.

He heard the door open and tipped his head back to see who it was. A couple of goons…or henchmen. One of them took Floyd and dragged him off Spencer. The other grabbed Spencer and dragged him from the room. He didn't protest.

-o-o-o-

Floyd awoke with a headache and a vile taste in his mouth. He groaned and rolled over expecting the softness of the cushions and rugs only to find the rough stone of a bare floor. It was the same room – he could smell Spencer in there still and he could smell the boys, but everything was gone. All except a small box on the floor next to him.

"What the fuck's going on?" He sat up in his filthy clothes and looked down at his hands. He tried to remember what had happened. Spencer had been here that was sure. He could smell him in the room and putting his hands to his face confirmed that he had Spencer in his hands at some point, but he didn't hold any actual memories of it.

He felt sick. He felt like he had taken every narcotic known and drunk his way through a pub and then thought that maybe that is why he did feel so damned rough. It had been a long time since this had happened. His head felt like it was going to explode and his hands were as shaky as his vision was blurred. He reached out for the small metal box. It had a big X etched into the metal. He ran a finger slowly over it and then pulled off the lid. A drugs kit. A phial of something, a syringe, a rubber band. He looked down at it and frowned. Floyd had never been one to inject. Well not into himself. He put the lid back on and slid the box to the side.

Standing was proving to be a problem. He had somehow forgotten how to balance properly and as soon as the room stopped spinning he was back on his knees wanting to be very sick. Eventually he gave up and just lay down on the cold hard floor again wondering if he had imagined everything else or if this was the hallucination. He rested on his right side looking at the small box. They obviously wanted him to take whatever it was in there. He reached out a hand and touched the small box and then pulled it close to him and held it tight.

"This means nothing. Just because I have you in my hands doesn't mean I will take you." The lid was off again. "Just because I'm looking again, means nothing. I'm curious. I want to know what you are." The band was around his arm. "Just a tiny bit wont hurt."

-o-o-o-

Spencer had been dragged through a tunnel and back to the round room. They dropped him to the floor which was devoid of the body but still had bits stuck to it. There was a circle of light. They didn't put him on the ring. They just patted the top of his head.

"Well done. Here have this." His hand was taken and something was placed in it.

"What is it?"

"A powder to help you sleep. To help you forget."

"I don't need your drugs."

"You might think that now, but later when we give someone else the treatment we gave the other guy, then you will want it. Unless you take it now. That way we won't have to kill someone else first. Up to you Spencer."

"You will kill one of those innocent men if I don't snort your drugs?"

"You're catching on – I told you he was a bright one." A deep dark laughter filled the room.

Reid dropped the small pack on the floor next to him. "I'm not doing it."

"Well I knew you would say that." A pause as the henchman looked down at Spencer. "Bring the next one over. Let him see his eyes as we rip him apart."

Spencer sat with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees and watched as a young guy, younger than himself was dragged over. Spencer thought he recognised him from the club and the guy seemed to recognise Spencer.

"Oh you two know each other. How sweet! This will make this so much more fun."

Reid desperately wanted to close his eyes. He didn't want to watch what they did to this person who had done nothing wrong except be in the wrong place and be dressed in the wrong clothes. They pulled him to the floor and started off with a general kicking. Reid watched and listened to the screams and the sounds of boots on flesh and the cries of help from the clubber. Reid reached out and picked up the pack.

"Stop - just stop. I will do it. Leave him alone."

"Oh you want your drugs now do you Spence?" It was Ren's voice.

"No – no I don't want them but if you will leave him alone I will do what you want." And so with a nod they stopped kicking and dragged him back into the darkness. "How do I know you won't carry on even if I do what you ask?"

A hand touched the top of his head. "There are never guarantees in life Spence. That is a risk you need to take. Is it worth the risk, because if you back out now I will tear him apart like I did the other one you got killed."

"I didn't get anyone killed. You did that to prove something to me. Well it worked." His fingers fumbled with the small pack in his shaking hands. He knew what they were doing to him and there didn't seem to be a way to stop it. He would die before he would let someone else die because of his mistakes.

"Here let me help you." A clawed hand reached down for the pack.

The fear that it would be taken from him and he would be making a mistake which would cost another life was overwhelming. "I've got it. Don't touch me!" but now his hands were shaking even more. Bit by bit as carefully and as slowly as he could, he removed the paper packing from around the gift. There was a small metal thing to hold the powder and a tiny amount of whitish grey stuff. "What is this?"

"Does it matter what it is Spencer. The end result is all that matters. Take it. Enjoy the comfort it will give you." Reid looked over towards where they had taken the guy again and swallowed.

"I'm not doing this because you have told me to. I'm doing this for him. Don't mistake what I am doing as something I want to do."

"Oh Spencer stop moaning and trying to excuse your actions, just get on with it will you? You might want to lay down first." A smirk.

And so he down on his side and did something he really thought he would never do. But it was just this once. He was sure of that. Next time it will be something else they will tell him to do. Each time slowly chipping away at what was important. They were destroying Floyd slowly with his inability to keep his willpower under control and they knew that. They knew Floyd well enough to know that the temptations would be too much for him. It was one of the many things which Spencer found so fascinating about him – the adrenaline spikes.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the same way he had seen Floyd do so many times and he quickly drifted off into a place where nothing could disturb the peace.

-o-o-o-

Floyd lay looking at the syringe. He had finally taken the lot and it had made his head buzz in a good way. He had tried to stand up and had succeeded quite well. He had also managed to scale the walls and hang off the ceiling. As he felt his wings rip through his flesh and then what remained of his clothing he howled in delight and flew around the room faster than something which flies really fast. He sat again with his legs crossed and his mind spinning and didn't think he had felt this good since last time he beat the shit out of Spencer. He licked his lips and sighed happily – then curled up into a ball and started to sleep it off. His arm was throbbing and he felt his wings retreat back into his body, but that was OK. For now that was fine.

He was awoken by a boot in his ribs. "Wake up." Ren's voice.

"I am sleeping."

"I have something for you." A bottle of whiskey was placed in front of him. "And this."

He looked now at the bare feet of one of the boys. "Where's the rest of my stuff?"

"Your stuff? You need to earn it back Floyd."

"Right obviously. That was silly of me wasn't it? Ren old buddy, it's not going to work. This plan of yours. You can't get rid of me as easily as you think you can."

"Floyd my dear old friend – it's already working." He picked up the small tin with X on it and replaced the contents with a fresh lot. "It's working great. Your Spencer will be mine or someone elses – and you won't know what hit you, you little shit."

"Screw you."

"Well if you insist, but Spencer wants me first. Learn to take your turn."

"I don't want your drugs or your boys – you can leave the drink, but you can take the rest. Well actually you can leave the boy for a little while, but I don't want your drugs." He looked at the tin. "What was that anyway?"

"You liked it didn't you." Ren was smiling.

"Took me back a bit is all. What is it?" running a finger over the tin.

"Something I made up especially for you. Enjoy."

Floyd pushed the tin away. "I don't want it."

"Not even slightly tempted by it?" A smirk.

The tin was pushed back with the toe of Ren's dirty boots. "Not even remotely." Floyd picked it up and threw it across the room.

"My we do have a little temper don't we. Spencer took his like such a good boy, yet you are not tempted. How curious the way things have changed."

Floyd grabbed hold of the boy standing next to him and pulled himself to his feet. Again the room began to spin and his eyes lost focus. "Spencer wouldn't do that." He could feel himself falling forwards and went down to his knees.

"Spencer would do anything if the right leverage was applied. Give him up Floyd. Cast him aside and free him. This will destroy him you know." Floyd could feel Ren's hand brushing through his hair. "And I know you have feelings for him. Feelings beyond arse and mouths." Ren turned and left the room with a passing shot. "Do what you are asked Floyd and you will eventually get all your shit back. I might even let you have Spencer for a while." The door slammed and locked behind him.

He turned and looked at the boy who was slowly touching himself and smiling down at Floyd.

"Stop doing that will you and leave me alone." Floyd turned and looked at the bottle of drink and picked it up. The boy knelt down in front of Floyd and ran a finger down his chest. "I told you to leave me alone. Go play with yourself somewhere else." But the boy was persistent and as Floyd began to drink the contents of the bottle like it was water the boy began to investigate Floyd's body. "I told you to get off me!" He pushed the whore away from him. "Don't look at me – don't come near me."

Again the hand returned. Unremitting and hungry hands.

And so there was only two options left open to him. Accept the boy or tear him apart.

Floyd went for option two. It didn't take long, but it was very messy. The blood sprayed over Floyd's face and up the wall and it pooled on the floor as Floyd too his anger and frustration out on the little whore boy. He knelt and looked at the mess he had made and his stomach growled. When had he last had something to eat? He put his hands to his face and started to lick off some of the mess. He then turned again to the boy and had lunch.

It was during this time that Spencer was returned to him for a short while.

He stood and saw something which his muddled drugged brain wouldn't process properly. "Floyd? What – what are you doing?"

"Having lunch what the fuck does it look like I am doing? What are you here for – thought you were off getting doped and screwing around with Ren."

Reid walked slowly over to Floyd who was wiping the mess off from around his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Damn you Flanders!" Spencer turned when he could fully see what Floyd had been doing and started to walk away. "I'm trying to stop people from being killed and you are here lunching on them! What the hell is wrong with you?" He was hammering on the door now. "Let me out of here!"

Floyd still not able to keep his feet started a slow crawl over to Reid. "It's not how it looks babes. Let me explain. We need to stay focused on what we need to be doing here or Ren will win."

Reid turned and looked down at the creature on his knees in front of him.

"And what is so bad about that? I spend my life standing up for you and making excuses for you and turning a blind eye to your – your strange behaviour and this is the repayment. You take so many drugs you can't stand and then you eat someone! I can't reason with that Floyd." He moved out of the way so Floyd's sticky hands couldn't touch him.

"It's the drugs talking. Your system isn't used to them. Come here babes – let me explain." Floyd moved closer and Spencer backed off.

"It's not the drugs Floyd. Please don't touch me. I need to think." His eyes flicked from Floyd to the mess behind him and back again.

Floyd sat and watched. "This isn't my fault. I didn't bring you here. This shit isn't my doing. It's Ren. If he gets rid of me then there is a new empty slot he can take. He needs me to fail Spence. He needs me to give you up. He doesn't want you. He doesn't give a shit about you. You will be just tossed back like some runt pig and I will be banished. The end. You will end up in some high security mental institution and I won't be around to protect you."

"Protect me? You think you protect me? Floyd you are what I need protecting from!"

"You think?"

"I know."

"Fine. Have it your way. You don't want to see me again? You want me gone from your life? You want to be the cause of my destruction?" (Ha! Got him there) "Then you can have it. Call for Ren. I will give you up. Kiss goodbye first?"

Spencer knelt down on the floor and put a hand out to Floyd. "I can't – you know I can't."

"It's probably your only chance Spence." Floyd grabbed Reid's hand. "Come on a last kiss babes – for me and I will be gone."

"That's not what I meant." Big sad hazel eyes were looking directly into darker fierce ones.

Floyd gripped tightly onto Spencer's hand. "They are trying to break you. Just do what they ask. If it's drugs, just take them. Go along with it. I can sort you out after. Don't compromise yourself Spence. Keep doing what you are doing. Ren's plan is obviously not working or he would have sent you to me now." Floyd moved closer and wrapped his arms around Reid. "I'm not about to give you up babes – don't worry about that."

Spencer leaned forward and rested his head on Floyd's shoulder. "OK – Well I'm not about to give you up either and so I think he is going to up his plan."

"Ren's not as smart as us babes. He wont win."

"You are pretty stupid when you are high."

Floyd thought of the feelings the drug had given him and it made him shudder with pleasure. "I can control it. I don't need his stupid drugs Spence. I am in total control of it."

He looked over to where the small tin with the X etched on the lid lay and licked his lips.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5 Drugs

Chapter 5

Drugs

_Don't do drugs because if you do drugs you'll go to prison, and drugs are really expensive in prison: - John Hardwick_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

And again he was sitting in the dark. The mess had dried to the floor but he was still not attached to the ring. He wanted them to just get going with whatever it was they planned. He sat hunched over with his arms wrapped around his legs and his head resting on his knees.

"Just do something. Get it over with. I'm ready for anything you throw at me." He muttered into his legs.

But he sat and waited and listened to the moans and cries of the people around him.

He was just dozing off when he was woken up by a hand pulling his head up off his knees by his hair. "Wake up. I have something for you. I thought you might be hungry."

Food was the last thing on Spencer's mind right now. "I'm not hungry."

"Never mind. Eat it anyway. It would make me very happy."

Spencer looked at the plate of food which had been brought for him. Spare ribs. He immediately put a hand to his own ribs and looked up at Ren. "I can't eat that."

"No Spence – you can eat it – you will eat it – you just don't want to." He looked down again at the plate of food and his mind drifted back to the time he was mashed and cut open by Iolanda and then his thoughts went to the body Floyd had been nibbling on.

"No Ren – I can't eat that."

"Have it your way then Spencer." The food was picked up and removed by someone and Spencer rested his head on his knees again only to have his feet pulled out from under him and restrained to the ring. They then took his left hand and cuffed that to the ring too – leaving his right arm free.

"What are you doing?" He felt like a trapped animal. To them that is all he was. He looked out into the darkness and called out. "Where are you? What are you doing?!"

A hard slap across the back of his head snapped his head to the side and made him shout out in surprise.

"Shut up and wait – whore."

He put his hand to his neck and sat manacled to the floor and waited.

Spencer shouted at first. He pulled and tried to get to them. He begged them to stop. He promised to eat the food. He promised to do anything they wanted – only stop what they were doing.

They didn't stop.

They held the guy by his feet and cut his throat. They collected the blood in a dish and it dripped and sprayed and the young guy jerked and twitched as they held him and drained his blood because Spencer wouldn't eat what was offered.

He wanted to hide his face and squeeze his eyes shut, but he owed this to him at least. To watch.

And so as the tears ran down his face he looked but closed his mind to what it was he was looking at.

"Drink up Spence." Ren took his hand and put a big pint glass in his hand. Spencer looked down at the drink which felt warm through the glass. His eyes had a problem focusing on what it was but he didn't need his vision for this. He could smell the deep coppery tang of the liquid in the glass.

"I can't. I can't drink that. I'm so sorry." He pushed it away from him and tried to turn his head away.

"Can't eat and now can't drink. Spencer – that – that which you just witnessed was your doing. Your fault – do you really want another death on your hands because you refuse to drink?"

He wrapped his fingers around the glass and lifted it off the floor. He wanted to throw it. He wanted it as far away from him as he could but he had to do what Floyd told him. Do what they asked. The rim of the glass was now at his lips. With his eyes tightly closed he tipped the glass and drank.

-o-o-o-

He needed something. He lay on the floor and looked over at the small metal container. It held dreams and pleasures you couldn't compare to anything else – and – this was the main thing – they wanted him to use it. They were making him comfortable. They would bring Spence back - maybe they would – but right now – that little box. The little box which was now being gently stroked.

"You don't need that. This – you don't need this. In the end it won't make you happy and you know that." He tied the band around his arm. "But just once more. Once more the wings. One more time that freedom. One more time won't hurt. The nectar of the angels. This must have cost Ren a pretty penny."

Floyd looked at the liquid now in the syringe. "What did you do to get this?" He put the syringe down on the hard floor and pushed it away. "I don't want this." He looked over at the door and shouted. "Ren you sonofabitch whore dog – I don't want your drugs. You won't get me like that you fucking bastard!"

He tried to get to his feet but still what must be hours later he still couldn't stand – but then all that whiskey probably didn't help any. He picked up the metal container and smashed the syringe spilling out the drug onto the floor. Floyd watched it start to soak away through the stone floor and bent over it running his tongue over what was left. He picked up the small metal box and slid it into his pocket.

He lay on the floor and tasted the bitter sweet nectar in his mouth and the tingling over his skin. His tongue went numb for a few minutes, just long enough in fact for it to have recovered when Ren and his friends arrived.

"That was stupid."

"I don't want your drugs."

"Then why are you still unable to stay on your feet? Did you not take everything you could get your greedy lazy hands on? Drink everything in sight? I think you did. Get up."

"Sod off."

"Get up or I will hurt your little lover."

"Screw you Ren. You need him."

"Doesn't mean I can't hurt him first."

"It won't work. You won't break him."

"Can – will – have. Now get your arse up off the floor and out of your own piss and get over here."

Floyd sighed and got to his hands and knees. "This will have to do. I can't stand. You know full fucking well I can't stand."

"Let us help you then. I really didn't think you would be this easy Floyd. I thought you had more fight in you than this."

"Really? How does it feel to be wrong?"

Floyd was dragged off the floor and onto his feet where he stood and swayed slightly.

"You realise how disgusting you are?" Ren prodded Floyd's chest. He frowned and looked down at it.

"Don't touch me." He took a step back to try to keep his balance as the henchmen let go of him.

"You are pathetic."

"I still don't want you touching me."

He received another prod in response and Floyd took another step back and shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.

"Having a problem Floyd?"

"Yes – you keep touching me." He ran the back of his hand over his mouth and was pushed back a bit harder. This time Floyd stumbled back until his back hit the wall. One hand he put palm to the wall and the other he put to his ear and then shook his head again.

"Oh dear – not your day is it?"

Floyd just frowned at him and wiped his hand over his mouth again. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want."

Floyd shook his head again and stepped slightly to the side. "I mean now – right now – what are you here for?" He took hold of a chain hanging off the wall and wrapped it around his forearm. The other hand he used to push his hair behind his ears. "Well? You have an answer?"

Ren full of confidence now that he had Reid a blubbering heap and Floyd so he couldn't stand walked forward.

Floyd muttered under his breath.

"What did you say Floyd?"

"I am asking you to stop this shit. You win. I will hand him over to you, but I don't want this marked as a failure. I wont be banished for this."

"But it's you I want – your arse – not his. He is nothing. Less than nothing."

Floyd muttered something again, which brought Ren in closer to shout abuse, but this time he was close enough and Floyd took the game to his own level.

His free hand wrapped around Ren's neck as the other with the chain followed – wrapping the chain tightly around Ren's neck – and then the teeth.

Flanders teeth embedded into Ren's neck as Ren's hand and teeth ripped at Floyd's face. They screamed unholy curses at each other as Floyd pulled the chain tighter around the other's neck. The henchmen stood and watched. Useless with no one to give them orders.

Ren could feel the teeth ripping into him, and Floyd could feel claws and teeth ripping at the skin on his face and neck. Knees met groins and then faces. Floyd was thrown back against the wall again as Ren took a step away and slid to his knees clawing now at the chain around his neck.

"No one – Ren – not even you – no one fucks with me or Spence and gets away with it. Consider yourself lucky you sodding upstart. I am going to chew your fucking head off and feed it to the shadows."

Little bits of Ren were scattered over the room. There were bits dripping off the ceiling. There were bits stuck to the wall and stuck between Floyd's teeth. He chewed and ripped and tore through the body and pulled the head off with a satisfying popping squelch sound. Holding the head by the hair he fell to his knees and took five minutes to get his head around what he needed to do next.

Get Spence. He needed to get Spencer and then he needed to present the head. He needed them to know he had not let this newbie stomp him. He needed to make a request for the formula of that nectar. Maybe that could be his payment. Release Spencer and take the drugs. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly trying to get the thoughts in the right order.

He got up slowly and leaned on the wall for a while. "You – you need to take me to the other one. Now."

-o-o-o-

The light was on above his head still. He had rolled the glass away but it could still be seen in the weird unnatural light. He had thrown up so much that he at one point passed out. He woke up laying in bloody vomit and the cycle of vomit and sweating and crying and tearing at his arms with his nails started over until he slid sideways to the floor again. He was still held by both feet and a hand to the ring and had pulled and wrenched at them until he heard the bones in his hand snap, but he still couldn't get out. The sounds of people crying and calling for help had stopped. It was just him now – howling and keening sitting in his stomach contents.

A hand on his shoulder got no reaction from him. He just sat and rocked and cried and made strange noises.

"Babes." And now Floyd was crouched down next to Reid. "What did they do? Spence – look at me." But Reid's eye were a long way off – somewhere where there was blood and death and screaming and the taste of someone else in his mouth.

Floyd ran hands over the restraints and they popped open. He then went to his knees and pulled Reid around so he was facing him. "Babes – look." He held up the head for Spencer to see. "I won. We won. We did it. Spence." Floyd slid forwards in the mess and pulled Reid to him tightly.

He could feel the tightness of Spencer. Every muscle seemed to be in a state of alert. He ran his hands down over Spencer's shoulders and down his arms – rubbing and squeezing gently on the muscles. "Spence – you need to stand up. I'm going to help you. We need to get out of here. I need to take you back." He slid his arms under Spencer's and slowly stood pulling him up off the floor with him. Floyd looked down at the unresponsive Reid and what he had on and then over and a body laying over in the edges of the shadows. "Wait here. Don't go anywhere." He let go of Spencer who remained standing staring off at nothing.

Floyd returned with a pair of blood soaked jeans and a red cropped Tshirt. He slowly undressed Reid from his belt cloth and helped him to get dressed. "Help me out here babes." But Spencer didn't seem to be hearing what Floyd was saying to him. "Shit babes…what did they do to you? What did you do?"

He picked the head up again and put an arm around Reid and guided him out of the circular black room.

-o-o-o-

He pushed Reid down so he was kneeling and knelt down next to him. "Just let me do the talking babes." He whispered –which was a bit pointless really as Spencer hadn't said a word since Floyd found him tied to the ring. He placed Ren' head on the floor in front of him and knelt leaning forwards with the palms of his hands on the floor in front of him and he waited.

Every now and then he glanced over at Spencer to make sure he was still there. He could hardly even hear his breathing he was so quiet and thought at one point that he might have fallen asleep, but the eyes staring out into nothing let Floyd know he was still awake, if not taking in what was going on.

"What do you want?"

A loud voice from up ahead.

"I wish to report."

"You took Ren."

Floyd lifted up the head. "I took Ren."

"Fine. Go." Floyd frowned.

"Go? I won the challenge. I can make a request – beyond this." Indicating Spencer.

"What is it you are after?"

Floyd pulled the box out of his pocket and held it up. "This. I want more of this."

"Conditions will apply." The box was taken from his hand. "And you will abide by them or you will be back here so fast your arse will think it's Christmas – and next time – next time I haul you back here you _will_ be staying."

"I thank you."

"Don't thank me – and don't think this will help your case. Your little fuckup is still a long way from being fixed. Now go – take your toys and don't come back." A full and heavy box was put in Floyd's hand.

* * *

_Drugs may be the road to nowhere, but at least they're the scenic route: - Author Unknown_

* * *

**A/N: Slightly shorter chapter as this is a double posting today and it felt like a good place to stop. More soon. Pb**

* * *


	6. Chapter 6 Home

Chapter 6

Home

_You have eyes that  
Lead me on  
And a body that  
Shows me death  
Your lips look like they were made  
For something else but  
They just suck my breath  
I want your pain  
To taste why you're ashamed: - Marilyn Manson - Evidence_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They walked down the street together. It was mid morning and there were children playing on the street and mothers chatting on their front lawns.

The world seemed to stop as they walked by them towards their own home. The grass was a bit too long and rubbish had blown over and caught on the edge of the porch. Floyd had no idea how long they had been gone for. Time took on a different twist where they had been. He didn't look at anyone and he didn't talk to anyone. He just held Spencer's hand a bit tighter and kept walking. He noticed that the bike was parked in the driveway.

Floyd guided Spencer down their pathway to the front door. There as a note taped to it. He didn't bother reading it. He just pulled it off and dropped it to the floor. He ran his hand over the lock and hear it click open.

"We're home." He let go of Reid's hand and gave him a gentle shove in through the doorway.

The place was lit up by the sunlight streaming through the windows. Someone had been here dusting and trying to air the place, but it still felt like he had just reopened and ancient tomb. He closed the door behind him and took Spencer straight to the bedroom.

"Lay down. Get some sleep."

Spencer walked to end of the bed and climbed on crawling to the headboard end and curled up with his arms wrapped over his head. Floyd stood and watched him for a little while and then left the room. He didn't close the door though. In case he awoke and felt like talking. It might happen. He then walked to the bathroom and turned on the taps on the washbasin. He looked into the mirror. Ren had done a good job on his face. This was going to scar. At least for a while. The mark ran under his left eye and up the side of his face in a ragged line joining another in a Y shape – etched into his skin. He ran a finger over it and thought of Spencer's scar and how it was slowly fading and how maybe he could – when things were a bit more settled make that show up a bit more again. "Perfection is very over rated." He muttered as he washed the blood and mess off his face and hands.

He was about to go and take off the clothes he had been wearing for months when the hammering started at the door.

"Didn't take them long." A sigh and he walked to the door and opened it – half expecting a 'welcome home' cake in the hands of some juicy kid. There was no cake – there was no kid – there was a Hotchner and a Morgan and a Prentiss though.

"You come in your batmobile?"

Morgan pushed Floyd out of the way and walked in. Emily looked Floyd up and down. "The neighbours were asked to let us know if they saw anything."

Floyd nodded and stood out of the way to let them in. "Well we are back. Why the national state of emergency?"

Hotch looked around the place and Morgan started to walk down towards the bedroom. "Where the hell is Reid?"

"Agent Derek Morgan." Derek turned to look at what looked like it might have once been Floyd but was now a stinking blood covered mess. "He is sleeping – let him be."

"Do you mind if I go and check that out?" Hotch asked.

"Well yes I do mind. He's tired and is sleeping. You have come at a bad time."

"You have been missing for just over six weeks – you disappeared with no trace along with a number of other people from a massacre at the club you attend. Your bike was in the parking lot. We would be interested to hear where you have been."

Floyd nodded. "Emily go check on Spencer. Don't wake him. Coffee? I have no milk so it will have to be black. As you know I have only just got home and believe it or not I am a bit tired…"

Morgan interrupted. "What happened to your face?"

Floyd put his hand to his face and smirked. "I got into a fight. I won. No coffee? Then leave. I'm not in the mood for you right now."

-o-o-o-

He lay on the bed and tried to disappear. He would do anything right now to remove what was going on in his mind, but all he could hear was the continual screams of someone he had killed and taste his blood in laying heavy in the back of his throat and feel the splatter of brains hitting the side of his face and seeing what he saw as Floyd's betrayal. He could feel the hand pressed over his face and smell the filth of Flanders hand stopping his breaths.

He felt someone sit on the bed and he held onto him self tighter – getting ready for the pain he expected. Someone was talking to him, but the screams drowned out everything to a slight hum in the background.

Someone touched him. For now it was gentle, but that was something he was used to now. Gentle at first, but it never lasted long until the beatings started again. He tried to pull him self in tighter.

And now the hand was gone and the feeling of someone being there was gone and he was left alone again to the sound and smells of the dead and dying.

-o-o-o-

"Floyd." Emily walked quickly over to him. "What the hell did you do to him?" She grabbed his bare arm.

"That? That wasn't me. I didn't do that." Morgan and Hotch ran down the corridor towards the bed room. "Boys – I am going to have to tell you to back the fuck off and get out."

Morgan turned around and walked back to Floyd. "I swear if you have done anything."

Floyd shook his head. "Which I haven't."

Emily's grip tightened on Floyd's arm. "He needs to be in hospital."

He placed a hand over Emily's and gently squeezed it. "No babes. They will lock him up. I'm not having him in some loony bin. I can look after him until he pulls out of it."

"Out of what? You dirty sonofabitch!"

"He's a bit unstable right now." Floyd looked at Emily and smiled. "How would you describe it Em?"

"Catatonic."

"No – no not the right word really. He had a bad time and is sleeping it off."

Hotch slipped his cell out of his pocket. "I'm getting him to hospital."

Floyd stepped forwards and put a hand over Hotch's. "Excuse me. I know you used to be his boss and I know you guys seem to think you still have control over him, but you are very much mistaken. He is my partner – I am his next of kin and I am looking after him. He is not going into some hospital where he will think he will never get out of. You are not doing that to him. Any of you. He is mine. I will do with him what is required to make him well and happy. You lot – all of you can leave my house. I didn't invite you over and I want you gone."

Hotch pulled his hand away from Floyd. "You are right I have no control over Reid or what he does or who he chooses to sleep with, but when the person who is saying he is going to care for him appears to be as sick as he is I have doubts as to his ability to do what is needed. I will get him to hospital. I will get him checked out and you will have to sit back and take it."

The hand was over Hotch's again and this time the nails were digging into his skin. "You will put the phone away and mind your own sodding business. We have only just returned from what turned out to be a gruelling journey and we are both tired and need to sleep. So piss off. All of you. If you want contact call first. You are not welcome here."

Emily stepped in and took Floyd's other arm and pulled him around to face. "Step away and calm down. We all just want the best for everyone. Reid is in a bad way. We are trying to help."

"I don't need your help. I don't want your help. We don't require hospital treatment or your chicken broth – so don't even think about it." He let go of Hotch and turned to face Emily. "I am tired. I need to sleep so if you don't mind either leaving or stripping off and joining me – I am going to keep Spence company. The door is over there. See yourselves out."

Floyd walked away from the group. If they left or stayed he didn't care. He just needed Spence. He wanted to smell him and touch his skin and know it was all going to be alright. For now.

This time he closed the bedroom door and slipped the lock over. He wanted privacy now. He wanted everything else gone.

Floyd lay down on the bed next to Spencer and carefully pulled him out so he was laying on his back with his arms by his side. "Babes – look at me. Tell me what happened. I want to help you." He pushed up on his elbows and looked down at the blank face. "Let me in." He ran fingers through Reid's dirty hair and then lay back and sighed. "Well blow me then if you won't talk to me." He felt Reid move and crawl down the bed and start to pull at the belt on his jeans. "Spence? What are you doing?" He put his hands on the back or Reid's head and twisted his fingers through his matted hair. "Babes you don't have to do this – but please don't let me stop you." Floyd had a smirk on his face as he felt Spencer's mouth on his skin. "Oh – Spence – didn't think your dirty mouth could do this to me." And his fingers held on tighter as his back arched and Reid gave him something he hadn't given him in a while.

It was a strange experience. Almost mechanical – slave like. It was good. It was very good. If this was the new sick Spencer, then really Floyd hoped that recovery was going to take a while.

Floyd was more than happy to repay the pleasure and once again Spencer's reactions seemed to be rehearsed and false, but the overall result was definitely not fake. It made Floyd feel almost – dirty.

For the first night in what was apparently six weeks they curled up together and almost fell asleep. Spencer closed his eyes and lay on his side. Floyd lay behind him and held him close and buried his face into the dirty hair and kissed the sweaty neck and shoulders and let himself close down for a little while.

Floyd woke up feeling damp. He slowly moved his arms away from Spencer and moved back off the bed. "Ah bloody hell." He walked around the bed and crouched down so he could see Spencer's face. "Babes you need to get up." He took Reid by the hands and gently pulled him off the bed. "Damnit." Floyd cursed and muttered under his breath as he guided Spencer to the bathroom. "Strip. I need to get you dry babes." Spencer stood and didn't move.

"Just strip off Spence." Floyd moved his hands over to Reid and started to undo the clasp on the front of the jeans.

It was now that Spencer reacted. He started by slapping Floyd's hands out of the way – which he ignored and slapped back. "Pack it in." Reid put a hand on Floyd's shoulder and tried to push him back out of reach. This time it was Floyd who slapped the hand out of the way. "Stop making life difficult." He stroked the front of Spencer's jeans with one hand and began to unzip them with the other. Again the hand tried to slap him out of the way and now Spencer was taking steps backwards. Floyd removed his hands and stood looking at Spencer who was staring back at him.

"You Spence – you need to remember something. You never – ever raise your hand to me. Not ever. You do that to me again and I will have to teach you why you don't do that. Now stop fucking around and let me strip you." Floyd moved in again and slipped his thumbs behind Spencer's waistband and started to pull the jeans down. Spencer reacted by turning and stepping back again and pushing the hands away from him.

Again Floyd stopped and stood back. "I told you not to do that. Last chance Spence. Strip or I will have to start on a new list of rules. Number one being you never raise a hand or refuse me anything. Understand. Strip. Now."

Reid pulled his jeans back up to where they should be and stood with his arms crossed.

Floyd hit him so hard that for a second he thought he might have broken his neck. Reid's head snapped back and smacked the wall behind him. He fell sideways cracking the side of his face on the toilet bowl. He let out a strange sound. Not pain or surprise – more of a sound of defeat. Floyd stood and looked at him and frowned.

When Spencer woke up he was naked laying on a damp mattress on his front. He hurt – again he hurt everywhere but he really didn't care anymore.

-o-o-o-

Floyd took this time away from Spencer in the spare room. He locked the door and made sure the curtains were closed. He sat on the floor next to the bed and pulled out the box he had been given. He slid off the lid and looked inside. Floyd's rationalisation was that he had kept to his part of the bargain. He was keeping to the required conditions and so deserved this treat. His mouth watered as he looked at the rows of phials and packs of needles. He pulled out two things – a rubber tourniquet and a pair of hand cuffs. He attached the cuffs to his left wrist and then to the bed.

He picked up a needle and then a small bottle of his nectar. With a contented smile on his face he drew a small amount into the syringe and then a slightly larger amount.

He curled up and felt the precious liquid flow into his veins. He howled with pleasure as he felt the poison take his mind back to places he hadn't been to for an eternity. He screamed in pain and cried out in delight as the skin on his back ripped open and he unfurled his wings again. The cuffs on the bed assured that he wouldn't be going anywhere and so he lay on the floor on his front and just let it happen. Next time – tomorrow – later – when Spence was better – he would go somewhere safe and he would let Spence feel this total freedom. He ran a hand over the cuffs and pulled away from the bed. He clawed his way over the walls and across the ceiling. He drooled and cried and left the house through the open window and glided over the roof tops and landed gracefully on the lawn where he curled up in complete ecstasy and slept.

-o-o-o-

They hammered on the door and got no reply and so they stood around him in a curious circle and used the phone number they had been given. It was about twenty minutes before the big SUV pulled up. Hotch got out of one side and Prentiss out of the other. They walked over to the circle of people.

"What happened?" Hotch looked down at a bloodied mess on the grass.

"He threw himself out of the window is all I know. Was screaming the most awful words. Some I'd never heard of, but they sounded real bad."

Prentiss was the one who reached down for the pulse. It was there, faint but there. His breathing was shallow and irregular. Hotch looked down and shook his head. "I will go and check on Reid."

She watched Hotch walk off and then turned her attention to Floyd again. "Are you sure no one attacked him?" She could see claw marks on his face and neck and glass stuck in his arms and chest.

"He did that himself when he was doing all the screaming. Didn't know what to do – you know call the hospital or what."

Emily looked up at the woman. "You did the right thing. Thank you." Then back to Floyd. "Wake up Floyd." She shook him gently.

He blinked.

-o-o-o-

Hotch walked through the house down to Spencer's room. The door was closed but he didn't knock. Hotch carefully put his fingers on the door and pushed it open with one hand and turned the handle with the other.

He sighed at the sight. Spencer lay where Floyd had left him on his front naked on the bed. Aaron walked over and picked up a sheet laying discarded on the floor. Firstly he covered Spencer and then sat on the bed next to him. The smell was disgusting. Reid's hair was stuck to his face in sweaty dirty clumps. He pushed it off his face to get a better look at him and could see the in-ground dirt on Reid's neck and shoulders. It didn't look like he had washed in weeks.

"Reid – it's Hotch." But there was no reaction. "I want to take you away from here. I need to take you somewhere safe." He leaned down and gave Spencer a small kiss on the cheek. Maybe this was his chance. Take Spencer away while Floyd was incapacitated. "Reid I am going to wrap this around you and get you out of here while I can." He pulled the sheet around him tighter and slid his arms under the much too thin person laying on the bed.

"And just what the fuck do you think you are doing with my whore?" Floyd stood in the doorway with a wide eyed Prentiss standing behind him.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7 Things in the Shadows

Chapter 7

Things in the Shadows

_It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit: - __Robert Louis Stevenson _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He lay on the damp bed next to Reid and looked at the narrow back and the line of his spine and ran a finger down it. "I wish you would tell me what they did to you. I want to help you Spence. I need you to get better."

"Why?" The voice was so quiet that at first Floyd thought he had imagined it.

"Spence?" He grabbed is shoulder and pulled him over onto his back. "Talk to me babes…tell me what happened."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I can't help you if you don't tell me."

"You were there. You know what happened."

Floyd sat up and moved over so he was straddling Reid across his hips. "No – I wasn't there. You will have to tell me."

Spencer sighed and closed is eyes. "I saw you with them. I saw what they were doing."

"Oh that? – That is what is bothering you? That is what this performance is all about? You don't like me screwing around?"

"No I don't like you screwing around."

Floyd leaned forward and ran his tongue over Spencer's bare chest. "Let me tell you what they did – you might enjoy it."

"Is this before or after you ate them?"

He stopped his licking of the sweaty chest and looked up at Reid. "Well before obviously. So you want to know?"

"Not really."

Floyd climbed off Spencer and jumped down next to the bed. "Get up. I want to go for a walk."

"Now? I will have a shower." He started to move off the bed.

"No – no shower just up and out. Put your boots on. I'll get you a shirt."

Spencer stood next to the bed in his filthy now dried out jeans. "I stink."

"I love the way you smell and I am the only person who matters – so put this on." Floyd threw a Tshirt at him. "And get your boots on."

"I don't feel well and it's dark. I will have a shower."

"Babes – did you not hear me? Get dressed. We are going out. You are not having a shower. Easy to understand instructions."

Reid pulled the Tshirt over his head and sat on the edge of the bed to put his boots on. Floyd stood next to him and kissed the top of his head. "Damn you Spencer – you just get better as the days pass."

"Better?" Spencer stood up.

"You – smell so damned good!"

Floyd pulled Reid close and moved a hand over the denim of Spencer's jeans. "I want to have you in the woods. Your face against a big old tree. The moon up in the sky. I want to smell you sweating and hear you moaning as I take you." He licked the side of Spencer's face. "I want you laying in the pine needles and standing in a field full of buttercups." He grabbed Reid's hand and walked them from the room. "Tell me where you want me Spence."

"In prison."

-o-o-o-

They walked to the edge of the woods hand in hand.

"It's very dark in there."

"Yes but that's half the fun."

"How is that fun? Do you know how many night animals there are which can harm? And we won't see them coming, not to mention natural dangers like tripping and roots and ants and pits and the things we can't see."

"Ants?"

"Some can cause quite a bit of pain. Look I am really not happy about going in there in the dark."

"I will protect you from the ants. I promise." Floyd bent down and picked up a stick. "I will beat them away – I will fight tooth and nail against the evil ants of the western woods."

"Oh shut up. I was just saying that it is possible."

"Just hold my hand and it will be fine."

They started to walk down a pathway through the light forest. They further in they went the tighter Spencer's grip on Floyd's hand was. The only sound was their feet scrunching on the ground. The only smells…well their own smells pretty much over powered all else but there was still a light leaf mouldering sort of smell about the place.

"They made me drink his blood." Spencer suddenly said. "They cut his throat and drained him and then made me drink his blood."

Floyd stopped and turned so he was facing Spencer. He let go of Reid's hand and placed one on each of his cheeks. Floyd leaned in and kissed him very softly on the lips. "Not your fault babes. You couldn't have stopped them."

Spencer put his hands over Floyd's and moved them down and off him. "It was my fault. I didn't do what they asked. You told me to do what they said. I thought I knew better and they killed him."

"I told you not to compromise yourself. I am sure your reasons for not doing what they asked were good reasons."

"They told me to eat rib. Floyd I couldn't do it. I couldn't."

"They knew that. They knew you wouldn't. You couldn't have stopped what happened."

"I can still taste it in my mouth. Every time I close my eyes it is there. In the back of my throat and I can see him. His eyes looking at me."

Floyd wrapped his arms around Spencer's shoulders and pulled him close. "Babes you couldn't have stopped it." He pulled away and took one of Reid's hands. "Come on. We are here to have fun. Take your mind off that crap."

They walked and scrunched a bit further until they came to a small clearing with a big old tree in the middle. Reid stood in the moonlight and looked up at the huge old branches spreading across the sky.

"You knew this was here?"

"Of course. Come on." Floyd led him over to the tree and pushed Spencer's back against the smooth old bark. As his mouth sucked and nibbled at the skin around Spencer's jaw his hands unfastened the jeans button on Spencer as Reid undid Floyd's belt and slid his hand down between the denim and the skin. Spencer thought he could hear the sounds of chains from somewhere, almost like wind chimes but he was happy right now being pushed hard against the tree with hands investigating his body – Floyd touched every bit of skin he could reach. He pushed Spencer's Tshirt up and licked and nibbled at his chest his hands then moving and touching and loving other parts of Spencer.

Reid moved his hands over Floyd's back as he leaned down and inhaled the heady musky scent drifting up from Floyd's dirty hair. When Floyd spoke his voice was low and his breathing was deep and hard. "Turn around." He put his hands on Spencer's shoulder and being a bit rough rotated Spencer so he was facing the tree. "Hands – Spence." His hands were sliding down the back of Reid's jeans. "Above your head." Biting on Reid's shoulder he heard him gasp as he moved his hands up.

Spencer felt Floyd grab his wrists and hold his hands in place and if anything else happened right then he didn't know – his whole body was overcome with the moment. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back as Floyd did what Floyd did very well. Dimly he noted a change in the movement and in the sounds Floyd was making and the hand around his wrists squeezed harder.

For Floyd this was a moment he had experienced many times before with many different men, but this was really the first time it had been quite this good. The right smells the right sounds and definitely the right arse and so when new set of hands joined in the fun it was something which nearly tipped Floyd from having a bit of fun in the woods with someone he liked to control into uncontrolled ecstasy. His breathing got heavier and he squeezed harder at Reid's wrists and bit harder into the back of his neck as the thing behind him which lived in the shadows did unto Floyd that which he did to Spencer.

In the grand scheme of things it didn't take long. For Spencer it was a life time, for Floyd it was eternity and for the thing for from the shadows it was just a tiny splinter of time showing someone he was doing a good job.

When Floyd released his grip on Spencer they both went to their knees on the forest floor. Spencer turned to face Floyd and smiled. "Now for the pine needles."

"Not yet. Something else first." And Floyd smiled back at him. He stood up and readjusted his clothing and then pulled Spencer to his feet. He gave him a quick kiss on that little place just behind the ear and moved him back against the tree again. "Hands up again Babes." Reid grinned at Floyd and raised his hands above his head.

The distant sound of the rattling chains became clearer now as the felt them being wrapped around his writs and pulled tight. They hurt. He could feel the links digging into his skin. "Floyd that's too tight." He pulled at them trying to get his hands free. "Floyd – stop it – this isn't fun anymore. Release them."

"Not fun? Of course it's fun." And he stepped back to look at Reid. "You look divine. How can this not be fun?" He stepped back some more. "I am going to hold this image in my mind. I'm sure you won't look so damned hot when I get back." He turned and started to walk away.

"Get back? Floyd! Where the hell are you going? Don't leave me here! Floyd!" But he had already disappeared into the darkness. He pulled again at the chains but they just cut in deeper and through his panicked breathing he could hear scuttlings and rustlings at the edges of the clearing in the shadows the moon was creating.

-o-o-o-

Floyd walked for a few minutes and then stopped. He walked off the pathway for a few feet and crouched down in the darkness. One hand he put on the ground and the other arm he wrapped over his head as he hunkered down and listened to Spencer's screams of fear.

The small hands reached out and pulled him backwards to the ground. Dozens of little dark taloned hands holding him still as he lay and listened to Spencer begging Floyd to come back. For a minute – maybe not quite that long he struggled against them. "It's not me you want. I left him for you." But they didn't listen to him. The small fingers dug into his flesh as they nibbled and licked with small barbed tongues and sucked and prodded and probed every last inch of Floyd. A couple of times he cried out in pain as the little hands slid into places not meant for little hands and then he did what he always told Spencer to do. Just go with it. Let it happen. You never know – you might like it.

-o-o-o-

Reid pulled and tugged at the chains but nothing came. He called out to Floyd to come back. He begged him to come back. He cried in fear of what would happen if left here in the dark alone. It was another sound though – not the movement and the snapping of twigs and the brushing of leaves it was the sound of Floyd crying out that silenced Spencer. A pained howl and not something Reid heard very often. Not even when he was shot. That didn't even get the reaction he could hear Floyd giving now. A long drawn out scream and then silence.

"Floyd? Oh god what's going on?" The reply he got was for the chains to suddenly tighten. He thought his shoulders were going to dislocate with the force he was suddenly wrenched upwards. He started shouting out again and kicking out at what must be there but he couldn't see.

"Who are you? What do you want?" His feet left the ground and the kicking made him swing in a slow lazy circle. As he reached the point that he was facing the tree he felt things grabbing onto his feet and pulling him back…

Spencer knew what was going to happen next and could do nothing to stop it. He tried to shield his face with his arms and threw his head back to prevent it happening but his head still made hard contact with the tree when his feet were released.

He swung slowly back and forth with blood running in his eyes where the scar above his eyebrow had been split open again. When he felt the hands around his ankles again he tried talking to whoever it was. "Please don't….." But the rest was lost as his face met the smooth old bark. He felt is nose crack and his lips split and the bones in his wrists made an unhealthy crunching sound. He hung from his wrists swaying slightly his head hanging forwards his toes brushing the leaves on the dark forest floor.

-o-o-o-

As it started to get light some of them slipped back out of the way. Floyd lay and listened to the birds singing and felt the enormous sigh the woodlands made as the darkness was pushed back. His skin was covered in tiny scratches and cuts. He felt like he could sleep forever. He rolled over onto his front trying to keep the too bright light out of his face and off his pale skin. He offered no resistance as tiny fingers reached out and jabbed needles into the back of his neck.

Daytime and he was free. He climbed the trees and flew from one to the next. He dived into the deep river and talked to the fish. He talked to the animals and loved them – in a very special way. He ate grubs and berries and whooped with the special freedom he had been given. A taste of what things should be like. Not tied down. Not banished to this existence, but a long rush of pleasure.

-o-o-o-

Reid awoke in agony still hanging from the tree. He was low enough to feel the floor below his feet but not low enough to take the weight off his wrists and shoulders. He tried to twist and maybe put his feet against the tree. Just to ease his shoulder joints for a few minutes would have been bliss, but he was now barefoot and the bark almost as smooth as glass. All he succeeded in doing was feel the bones in his wrists grind together the pain shooting through him and with a sigh he let go and went back to the nightmare world he had just come from.

The light streamed in through the branches of the tree and picked out the blood spots on the floor and the golden tints in his messy dirty hair.

Floyd lay broken bloodied and unmoving somewhere deep in the forest at the bottom of deep gully the light which managed to make it's way down there picked out the white of the bone sticking through the skin and the red puddle of muck he lay in.

-o-o-o-

Hotch was far from happy at the condition of Reid and though he knew Floyd disliked him being there and prying into their business – old feelings – for both of them – were hard just to let go of. He had found it easier to forget Haley than he did Reid and Flanders, but maybe that was because he kept having to see them. See them together. And so here he was at mid morning taking a deep breath and raising his hand to knock on the door.

"They're not there." A female voice from behind him…He let his hand drop and turned to look at the 'friendly' neighbour. "They went out last night."

"And didn't come home? Are you sure?"

"Very sure. They walked down that way and didn't come back. I've checked. They're not there."

Aaron left the Flanders porch and walked over to the woman. "How did you check?"

"Well I was worried because that window is still not fixed and I have a key. I do dusting for them and so I knocked and no one answered so I let myself in. No one there." She stood looking at the door and then at Hotch. "Want me to let you in? You did live here though, do you still have a key?"

Hotch pulled a key out of his jacket pocket. "I still have a key. Can I ask – did Dr Reid seem to be in distress at all? In pain?"

She shook her head and smiled. "No – not at all. They both seemed happy – holding hands and chatting. Almost like a real couple they are."

"Yes almost. They were both talking?"

"Well yes – chatting and smiling and well being normal – well as normal as that sort of thing can be."

Hotch blinked and looked down at his key. "Thank you for your help." He then turned and walked back to the porch. The door opened into the dark oppressive room Spencer call his lounge. There didn't seem to be anything out of place. Floyd hadn't had a furniture smashing tantrum. He checked out the kitchen which looked like it hadn't been used in quite a while. Not even a coffee cup sitting used in the sink or dishwasher. The bathroom was its normal bleached white. Actually Hotch noted that the room had been cleaned recently. The bedroom stank. The smell made Aaron want to recoil and escape. It smelt like something had crawled in there and died. As he walked further into the room he felt his stomach churning and bile started to work it's way up into the back of his throat. He had no idea what had gone on here but Floyd needed to get some air into this pit they called a bedroom.

Sex toys lay on the dirty floor. Hotch put his hand to his face and walked out. If Spencer was able to live like this then Floyd had managed to drag him down another notch. He closed the door behind him and walked out through the lounge and out into fresh air again. He could still smell the stench of the room on his skin and clothes.

He bent over and brought up his breakfast into the over grown flowerbed at the side of the small single story dwelling Spencer called home. He had seen worse. He had seen a lot worse, but this was Spencer. This was different.

-o-o-o-

An ant crawled over Floyd's face.

* * *

_When you are suffering, know that I have betrayed you: - Marilyn Manson_

* * *


	8. Chapter 8 Normal

Chapter 8

Normal

_Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal: - From a headstone in Ireland_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Floyd is.

* * *

As the light started to dim again and the day creatures made way for the night animals – Spencer hung by his arms the blood on his face had dried and during the day insects and other small flying things had landed on him and sucked at the blood and sweat. He kept his eyes closed as much as he could. The fear that something would crawl over his eye forced strange sounds to come from the back of this throat.

He was sure Floyd didn't mean to leave him like this. He wouldn't do that. He would have come back if he could. Spencer knew that his body was releasing too much fluid. He was dehydrating but if the light headedness was because of that or because he was smacked in the face by an enormous tree he didn't know. He couldn't think straight…only that if he could – Floyd would have come back.

And so he began another night alone with the chains ripping at the skin on his wrists. He knew he harder he pulled the tighter they got and the more they ripped at his skin. The blood had run down his arms but it was dry now and covered in the tiny insects that lived off bloody and dirt and other bodily fluids. He had cried for a while. Big fat tears of frustration – and then hate – and then sorrow – and then loss. And now the tears had dried up and his emotions were empty.

Again he heard the scuttlings at the edge of the clearing and maybe he heard something like voices, but that was most likely just his fevered imagination.

He screamed and kicked and howled and begged them to come and help him, but as the noises stopped he realised they were not there to help him, but to torment.

Spencer felt hands touching him and dragging his clothing out of their way. He felt small ice cold hands running over his skin and things climbing up his back and biting on the back of his neck and legs.

-o-o-o-

He tried to move but couldn't. He tried to open his eyes and couldn't. He tried to remember who he was and couldn't remember – he just knew that he would give anything for that peace again. Anything. Almost. The day passed in fast forward. Things crawled over him and drank his blood. Some of them died and lay down with him in his personal puddle. Leaves fluttered down and landed on his back. Something even clambered over him and took a bite. It then folded in on its self and lay across Floyd's back slowly dying and rotting and covering.

-o-o-o-

Hotch sat and looked at the telephone on the desk. Morgan sat on the chair the other side of the desk.

"One more try and I am going over there again." Hotch picked up the phone and rang Flanders house number and listened to it ring until the answer phone kicked in. He didn't bother leaving a message.

"Hotch…" Derek started.

"I know. I know I am not his father or mother or lover or anything. I am just his ex boss, but I still worry and they've only been home a day and they're missing again. Something is wrong."

"They don't need to clock in with you Hotch."

"I know – I know, but Morgan you didn't see that back room. You didn't smell it. There was something wrong."

"His hygiene has dropped a bit. That is personal choice. It doesn't mean something is going on."

Hotch sighed and put the phone back on the cradle. "I just wish Floyd would let him heal."

Derek stood up. "He will never be the Reid we knew. That person has gone. He has grown – matured – had experiences. We cant expect him to be the same person."

"I know. I realise that – but this new person. I don't know him."

Morgan shook his head. "Then leave him to Floyd and keep your memories. It's what he wants. How many times has he had the chance to leave him and how many times has he gone straight back. There must be something good about the man – you know him…Tell me – what is it everyone sees in him that I can't?"

A voice spoke from the doorway. "He loves Spencer. That's what makes him special. And would die for him…That is what keeps Reid there. Unconditional love. We don't get that too often in life."

Morgan looked at Emily as though she had gone mad. "Loves him? Man I hope I never experience that sort of love."

-o-o-o-

They parked the car up on the old forest road. Mary - teenager with far too much mouth and her mother who needed to talk to her about something. They did this when they needed to talk. It had started when Mary was little, it was a way to talk to her daughter without her husband listening in on the secrets of the woman. Now it was usually when Mary needed a lecture on sex or boys or both or girls and boys and sex in Mary's case. The dog bounded down the track in front of them.

"I hope it's not muddy. Don't want to get my boots messed up."

Lauren looked at her daughter's feet and sighed. "Well you knew where we were going. It looks dry though, you'll be fine."

They walked in silence for a little while. Then with a sigh Lauren pushed her short dark hair off her forehead and started talking. "I'm moving. To Italy."

"Yeah ok."

"I have filed or divorce and I am going."

Mary stopped. "What?! You are divorcing dad? What the hell?"

"Well things don't always work out the way you want them to honey. I need to talk to you about it."

"Shit mum! What about me?"

"Don't cuss – and that is what we need to talk about. You can stay with dad, or you can come with me."

"To Europe?"

"Yes – what's the dog barking at?"

Lauren and Mary both called their dog Daisy back, but she didn't return. The barking got louder the closer they got. She hadn't run off, she had found something.

They left the path and reached the clearing with the tree they always called the picnic tree. They'd passed many summer day sitting here under this tree. Daisy was on the far side of the tree barking at something. Mary went to walk forward but he mother put a hand on her shoulder.

"No sweety. Wait here." She bent down and picked up and branch off the floor.

"What is it?" Mary's eyes had gone huge.

"I don't know." But Lauren looked up at the tree branches and Mary didn't miss the way her mother's hand went to her neck. "Wait here."

She walked slowly around the tree. She thought it was probably a dead animal that had gotten the dog so excited. She reached forward and touched the dog on the back. "Leave." She hissed and Daisy backed away and whined. Another step around the tree and she could see it.

"Oh god. Mary – back to the car." She dropped her stick and ran grabbing her daughter as she ran and fumbling in her pockets for the cell phone she knew was at home on the side table recharging.

"Mum what was it? What was there?!"

"Just go! Do you have your cell phone?"

Mary stopped. "Yes – yes I do. What was it?"

"Someone hanging from the tree."

Mary put her hand to her mouth and her eyes went even bigger. "Oh my GOD!" She fumbled with the phone and handed it to her mother. "Man or woman?"

Lauren shook her head. "I didn't look that closely sweety – back to the car."

"You couldn't tell? Definitely dead? Mum you did check didn't you?"

Lauren looked down at her shaking hands and passed the phone back to Mary. "It smelt very dead. Back to the car. Call 911; I will go back."

"NO!" Mary put the phone to her ear and listened. "Oh yes we just found a body in the woods."

-o-o-

They walked slowly back again. Lauren knew she should have a proper look. Not because of morbid curiosity but just on the off chance it wasn't dead. Again she told Mary to stay out of the way and again she picked up a stick. "Keep Daisy with you. Don't move from that spot."

She walked slowly around the tree and looked again. She hadn't noticed the first time that for a start it was a male and secondly he was hanging by his hands rather than his neck. He was half stripped and covered in blood and what looked like bites from small animals. His skin had bugs stuck over it. She could see he was still wearing a Tshirt but his jeans were on the forest floor. Very gently she prodded him with the stick and stood in a trance and watched as the body slowly moved around until it was facing her. She looked away from his obvious nakedness and up to his face. Slowly she used the stick under the chin to lift the head up.

He blinked at her.

Lauren screamed and dropped the stick and ran backwards until she fell over on her backside.

"MUM!" Mary was moving forward. "What happened?"

"Oh lord Mary – I think he is still alive.

-o-o-o-

They cleaned him off. They put him in IC and then the called Hotchner. The doctors on duty had seen this young man at deaths door so many times that they were just waiting for him to be brought in one day in a body bag. But for someone so skinny and sick he seemed virtually indestructible.

Hotch was there with Morgan within twenty minutes of the call and once again they were faced with looking through a glass wall at the man they kept trying protect and keep safe and kept failing in.

They were informed that a rape kit had been used and samples had been taken and were in the lab and now the doctor asked if Flanders was with them.

"NO." Hotch kept his answer short. His anger was so great that he was finding breathing difficult. Morgan was flexing his fingers into fists and pacing. "No – we don't know where Flanders is."

"A shame. I am sure his presence reassures him. It seems to have in the past."

"Reassure him?!" Morgan stopped pacing and stared at the insane doctor. "He probably did that to him! How reassuring would you find that sonofabitch? Hung up in a tree and left to die. Animals feeding off him! If Flanders turns up here I'll………."

"Stay calm. You will stay calm and listen to his side of the story."

"Look at him Hotch! Look at Reid. And you want Flanders side of the story?"

"We don't know what happened. Go and get a coffee for me. I will sit with him for a while."

Hotch watched Derek walk off and silently entered the room. He sat on the chair next to the bed and wondered how many times he had done this. He put a hand over Reid's strapped and splinted hand and squeezed it gently. Hotch knew one day Spencer just wasn't going to recover. One day he would close down and never open again. He wondered if this time was it. He had only just recovered from the last six weeks and now this.

He was so deep in thought he didn't see Spencer turn his head and look at him. "Hotch." His voice croaked.

"Reid. You are in hospital."

"Floyd?" another croak.

Hotch ignored the question. "Ice chips. They will sooth your throat.

A very slow nod and he closed his eyes tightly. "Did you find him?"

"The ice Spencer. It will help you."

He accepted the ice and sucked on the lovely coldness. "Please just tell me if you found him."

Hotch shook his head. "No – we didn't find him. He left you for dead."

"No – it wasn't like that." Reid turned his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I know what you are thinking…but something got him Hotch. I could hear him screaming. I've never heard that before. Something took him. He was playing. It was a game. Then something – something…"

"Tell me. Something what?"

"Nothing. You won't understand. No one will. Can you go now please? I want to sleep."

"I can stay. It's alright."

"I want you to go. I want to be alone."

Hotch stood up and sighed. "Sleep and heal then Reid. I will be back tomorrow."

"No- please don't – I don't want you here."

Aaron stood and watched Spencer roll over so he had his back to him. "I want to help you."

"Then leave me alone."

-o-o-o-

He was in that middle place somewhere between there and somewhere else. He could feel he was being reclaimed. He could feel the earth slowly covering him and he tried to open his eyes again but he was too broken. Floyd knew he needed to close and heal, but he had to go and get Spencer. He had left him – he was going to play a game and forgot. Forgot that sort of game isn't fun unless you are Floyd. It had been a test and he had failed miserably.

Floyd groaned softly to himself. "Bastards. I demand another go." But nothing answered him except the buzzing of insects laying their eggs under his skin.

And it rained on him and the eggs hatched and flies flew out of the decaying flesh and the earth slid over him and the plant life rotted over him as the forest started to reclaim him.

-o-o-o-

He didn't know how long he had been in the hospital this time. He had turned away all visitors and refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. He made a few enquiries via the staff about Floyd but they either knew nothing or weren't going to share.

The house had been closed up for a long time and it did smell funny. He left the front door open and unlocked and opened some windows and stood and looked around. He had no idea what he was going to do now. Floyd always handled the money. Reid had always relied on Floyd for everything and now he was going to have to deal with things on his own. He sighed and walked slowly around the small house. When he got to his bedroom he put his hand on the cool wood of the door but didn't go in. Instead he went to the spare room and lay down on the bed there for a while and thought.

He had been home for about an hour when the phone rang.

"I'm sorry Hotch. I don't want to talk to you." And he put the phone down.

"No Morgan I am fine I want to be on my own."

"Thank you for asking Emily. I will be alright." He was about to rip the cord out of the wall when it rang again.

"Garcia. Yes. Come over."

She didn't knock when she arrived. The door was open. She could smell coffee and so called out Spencer's name and made for the kitchen. She stood for a while and looked. Reid was bent over the sink his shoulder shaking. She put the ice cream down and walked quickly to him and put her hand on his back. He jumped and pulled away from the touch.

"Hey it's me."

Spencer stood up and turned to face her. His eyes swollen with all the tears. "Thank you Pen."

"Come and sit down. I got ice cream and chips." She took his hand and guided him out of the kitchen and back to the lounge.

Spencer sat all curled up on the couch and Pen sat next to him wondering how to comfort someone who didn't want to be touched. She was very much into hugs and couldn't understand this with Spencer. He had never liked hugging really but now he didn't want any contact. She wondered how someone so tall and good looking could make himself looks so small and insignificant.

"Pen – I need a job."

This was a start.

"What sort of job sweety?"

"Well I was thinking of a book shop or something, but I don't know."

"Well it seems a bit tame."

"I know. I tried to work it out and I really think I will be safer in a book shop than say – a library."

"Safer in what way?" the ice cream half way to her mouth was dripping on her spotty blouse.

"Less likely to be abducted from a book shop – the statistics show that …"

"Spencer – statistics have nothing to do with it and you know that."

Reid looked up at Pen and frowned at her. "You would tell me if you knew anything wouldn't you?"

She put the spoon in her mouth and nodded. "Yes I would let you know. There is nothing. They're not looking for him." She so wanted to put her hand out and touch him but placed her hand on the couch next to him. "People – He – Well he's gone off before and you need a job. I can help you there."

"I don't want you to. I need to do this alone."

She looked over and nodded. "Yes you do. Shall we watch a movie now before I have to get a straw for the ice cream?

-o-o-o-

He kept the job in the book shop for a few days before handing in his notice. The library said he was over qualified for any vacancies they had. Place after place he missed out on interviews to someone else. Someone who didn't have a scar running down his face. Someone who didn't have the medical records he had. Someone normal. He finally found somewhere. A small legal firm who needed someone to read through documents for them. That was something he could do. Read and check and read and make notes. It was something he could lose himself in and do without thinking and let his mind go to other places.

In the evenings he changed out of this shirt and tie and pulled on a tight Tshirt and a pair of low cut jeans and went to the new club. The other had been closed down. No one wanted to go there anymore. This new place was bigger and better. No memories here. He could drink and watch and wish it was him out there with his someone special.

Every time someone knocked on the door his stomach twisted in a fearful knot and he didn't answer the phone anymore.

Sometimes Garcia would come over and they'd stuff themselves with ice cream and she'd sleep on the couch and listen to Spencer cry in his sleep. Everyone seemed so happy that he was finally getting his life back and doing things and having fun.

Hotch was sure that Reid was recovering nicely, but Garcia knew better.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9 Talking

Chapter 9

Talking

_The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words which are clear; the great truth has great silence: - __Rabindranath Tagore _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Friday:

The end of a working week. Spencer had a small dark office he worked in. His door was always open but no one ever came in to say hello…They never even looked in when they walked by to get coffee from the small kitchen area. Spencer was left alone. They saw him as a strange eccentric looking young man. His long always slightly dirty hair tucked behind his ears and his clothes never fitting him quite right.

It was a shock to them how fast he could do his job. At first they thought he wasn't actually reading anything, but when checked on he was able to recite back everything he had look at that day. It just made the looks he got become even stranger.

And so today with his elbows resting on the desk, a pile of documents he had read and dealt with in his 'out' tray, he was surprised when he heard a voice.

"Mr Reid?"

He looked up at the guy standing at the door.

"Dr Reid." He corrected.

"Ah – well we are going out for our Friday drink. Wondered if you wanted to join us?"

Spencer didn't want to. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but then again he needed to go out sometimes and not be looking at arse and muscle.

"I'll just get my things."

And so he was sitting in a dim bar with a double whiskey in front of him – listening to the men chatter on about girls.

"Spencer." He looked up at Phil – one of the people he 'worked' with. "You? You have a girlfriend?"

He looked back down at his drink. "No."

Spencer heard some hardly suppressed laughter. "No one to share your life with Spencer?"

"No." He tipped the glass up and finished his drink. "Not anymore. I'm sorry – I have to go. Thank you for the drink."

"Hey hey sit your ass right back down and dish the dirt."

"There is no dirt to dish."

"Oh come on Spencer – we know nothing about you. Tell us all. Where are you from? What did you do before you worked for us – and the scar. There has to be a story in that." Reid's fingers went to his face and with a sigh he sat back down again.

"My private life is private for a reason. I don't wish to share it. My work history is pretty straight forward, before this I worked for a while in a museum and before that I was with the FBI. That's it. Now you know everything."

The laughter around the table confused Reid. What had he said that was so funny?

"And the scar? How did you get that?"

"I was abducted and beaten – now if you don't mind." And he started to stand again amidst the roars or laughter. He picked his bag up off the back of his chair and slipped it over his shoulder. Without another word he left.

Once outside he stood with his back against the brick wall of the building and took long deep breaths. He knew it had been a mistake to go out for a drink with them. What in his life had ever been normal? Why would they believe a word he said? He needed to be at home – on his own – nothing but memories, but first he had to walk back to his car. He stood looking down the road in the direction he had to walk and then the other way. There were a lot of people walking in both directions. None of them looking at the skinny guy pressed against the wall but he still didn't consider it safe to go back to the car. Not yet. Not alone. And so he stayed where he was pressed against the wall and he waited. He folded his arms and pinched at his sides and wanted to close his eyes and just be transported from here to his home, but he had to keep watch – he had to stay on his guard.

"Spencer?" It was Phil' voice again. Reid was shocked at how he had managed to sneak up on him so easily. Next time he would have to be more careful. He turned and looked at Phil.

"Hi." He kept his arms wrapped around him.

"You been here all this time?"

"All this time?"

"You left the bar three hours ago. Thought you had gone home."

"Ah. I am waiting." He didn't feel comfortable talking to this person.

"For?"

Spencer just shook his head and took a step back – his eyes darting everywhere trying to find an escape.

Phil put a hand out and touched Reid on his arm. The reaction he got was not one he expected from this seemingly shy in introvert.

"Don't touch me! Don't you ever touch me!" Reid slapped the hand away and started to manically rub at his arm where Phil had put his hand. "Get away from me!" And he was stepping back again.

Phil was joined now by John and Steve – eyebrows raised - at the scene. "What he hell is wrong with him?"

"Not a clue."

Phil kept walking towards Reid. "Hey what's up?" and was now joined by the other two. He could feel them closing in on him. He looked for a gap to escape but it was too late now and so he readied himself for the attack.

They watched Reid slid downwards until he was kneeling and wrap his arms around his head. They watched as he curled up as tightly as he could on the sidewalk outside the pub. Discretion dictated that they left the weirdo where he was. They assumed he was on drugs and decided to have a word with the boss in Monday. It had just started to rain as they ran off towards their cars.

By the time Spencer picked himself up and walked back to the car he was soaked to the skin.

He drove home slowly his mind all over the place. Really he didn't think he should have been driving. He was sure he jumped some red lights. He pulled up into his driveway and looked up at the cold empty house. He could maybe call Pen but she was over at his place a lot and he never really spoke to her. She must be getting fed up with it. With him.

He didn't turn on the lights when he went in. The dark didn't really bother him anymore. What could be worse in the dark then he had experienced already? He walked down the hallway to the door at the end and silently slipped into the stinking hole where he felt close to the person he missed most in the world. Without removing his wet clothes he lay down on the filth encrusted mattress and cried. He cried for what had just happened, for what had happened back in the past. For the friends he didn't have anymore – not that work mates could be friends – and he cried over the loss and betrayal he was feeling. He ignored the knocking on the door and the phone was still pulled out of the wall and he stayed on the bed until it was Monday morning.

Spencer went into work still wearing what he had on the Friday, only now the clothes weren't neatly ironed by the woman who came in to dust. This time they were damp and stinking and scrunched up. He went to his office without saying anything to anyone and closed the door and there he stayed until it was time to go home again in the evening.

There was a knock on the office door and without waiting for a reply Phil entered.

"Reid."

He looked up at the man in the doorway. "Hi." He looked away again.

"You look like shit – you smell like it too. Do you need help with something? Someone to talk to? Didn't mean to touch on a raw nerve."

"I am fine thank you." He stared at the wall.

"You don't look fine."

"Well you need to mind your own business." Spencer got up and snatched his bag up off the floor. "If you don't mind – I am going home."

"Spencer – I mean it. If you need to talk." Phil stood in the doorway blocking Reid's escape. He sighed and sat back down again.

"I have had a bad time. I am getting through it. The constant questions just don't help."

Phil got comfortable leaning on the door frame. "Well I just found it helped when my wife left."

"I see." But he was staring at the wall again.

"Did your wife leave? Take the kids away?"

"No – no I'm not married. Never have been. Please – I need to go home."

Phil nodded. "OK but you know the offer is there. If you need to talk."

"I will be sure to remember. Thank you." And with that Phil turned and walked off.

-o-o-o-

He stood alone again in the empty house. He dropped his bag to the floor and picked up the mail. Bills. Piles of bills. He sat on the floor with his back to the wall and opened the first one. Electricity. 'Thank you for your payment.' Spencer frowned. He couldn't remember paying it. Telephone again 'Thank you for your payment.' Two mistakes were very unlikely. Quickly he ripped open all the letters to find all his bills had been paid. His bank statement told him he had far more money in his account than he should have. He sat amongst the ripped open envelopes and put the paper to his nose and inhaled. No familiar smell. No funny buzz in his head from it. Spencer crawled across the floor and plugged in the phone.

"Garcia? Can you come over?"

She let herself in. Spencer had given her a key. The stink hit her like a wave of foul rotting muck. She put a hand to her face and walked slowly into the dark room.

"Spencer?" She was about to put the light on when he spoke.

"Don't put the light on Pen."

She looked over at the huddled person over by the telephone. A pile of letters in front of him. "What on earth happened?" She was over at his side in a flash and kneeling down next to him. Ever careful not to actually touch him – but the need was almost over powering. "Sweet cheeks – what he hell happened here?"

He picked up the mail and handed it to her. "Someone has paid all my bills."

She squinted at the letters in the dark. "I need some light Spencer." She stood up and turned the light on – keeping her eye on Reid as she did so. "Is the light bothering you?"

"It's a bit bright. The bills Pen. I didn't pay them and there is money in my bank account I didn't put there."

"Ok…I will check these out and I want you to go and wash and change your clothes and have something to eat."

She moved over to Reid's computer and booted it up. "Thank you Pen."

"No problemo. Just sort yourself out."

He nodded and got up from the floor. He didn't go in the bathroom he went straight to the spare room and peeled off the dirty clothes he was in. He replaced them with a long sleeved faded red Tshirt and a pair of very low cut black jeans. He put one of Floyd's belts on and stood looking in the mirror. Spencer tucked hair behind his ears and tried to smile. It came out more of a grimace – but he felt a bit better when he went to join Garcia again.

"You didn't shower?"

"No."

"Ok….still sorting this for you – go and make me a coffee will you?"

"Er yes."

When he walked off she turned to look at him. A far cry from the cords and shirts but still very strange. She smiled at the retreating back then returned to the computer with a frown.

When Reid came back in with two hot mugs of coffee Garcia was sitting on the couch looking nervous. Reid handed her the mug and sat down.

"What?"

Pen looked over at him. "What what?"

"What's wrong? What did you find out?"

"Well first this." She took the mug away from Spencer and put it on a coaster on the coffee table. "You are right, all you bills are paid and there is a big sum of money in your account."

"I knew that. Who paid them? Where did the money come from?"

Garcia fiddled with the hem of her blouse and bit on her bottom lip. "Well it didn't give a full name. But it seems to have been set up a few months back. Around the same time that….." She fiddled some more. "And well the name of the person who is paying the bills is F Franks." She looked over at Reid who was staring back.

"Franks?"

"It's like a trust thing sweet. The money is coming out of his estate and he is paying your bills and topping up your bank account."

"His estate? I don't understand."

A sigh from Garcia. "Floyd set it up. So you don't need to worry about money."

"Why?" Reid still looked puzzled.

She so wanted to comfort Spencer. She didn't know what to do with her hands which were demanding they hugged him. "Well because he cares for you…loves you."

"Then where is he?"

"I – I wish I could answer that question Spencer. But you must realise that these things are usually set into motion when they can no longer – er – physically do it themselves."

"I understand. Thank you Pen. I think I need to be alone now."

-o-o-o-

He could feel rain on the side of his mud encrusted face. He wanted to open his mouth and let some of the water in, but he still couldn't move. He wanted to open his eyes and see where he was, but he couldn't do that either and so he stayed still and wished he had a smoke and something to inhale or maybe even pop into his veins and free him from here.

He thought of Spencer and wondered what had happened. Had anyone found him? Was he still hanging rotting from the tree? Had wild animals come to feast on him too? Or was he safe at home in the arms of another? Had someone taken his place? Did Spencer mourn him? Did he grieve? And so he just lay in the increasing layers of forest and imagined he was back at home curled up behind Reid with his face buried in his hair.

Floyd closed down again for a while as he felt the maggots crawling over his peeling skin.

-o-o-o-

He drove part of the way but didn't park too close.

Spencer still had on the clothes he had put on when Garcia was there. He showed his pass at the club door and walked into the noise and smells he could disappear into. It was not easy here not to be touched. In a lot of ways it was not easy. He pushed his way to the bar and got a beer and then stood and looked at the dancers and listened the music he hated.

"Always alone." A voice in his ear.

Spencer turned to look at a tall dark haired guy with very short hair. He nodded at him.

"No one to dance with?"

"I don't dance."

The stranger moved so he was standing in front of Spencer. Leaning on him. Reid raised an eyebrow and tried to keep his eyes focused on the crowd. He felt a hand moving over his chest and another over the front of his jeans. Spencer closed his eyes and pressed against the prying hand.

"Want to play?"

He didn't. Not with this person anyway – but he had made a decision today. He was going to move on. He was going to take the money Floyd had provided him with and get on with his life and if that meant playing games with strangers at the club then he would. He already knew he was a perverted bit of filth. He knew he was worth nothing. He knew he was scum so why not enjoy it.

He put the empty bottle on the bar and smiled at him.

They didn't introduce them selves. Reid stood facing the wall and placed his palms on the cold white painted surface. It was mechanical but somewhere deep down he almost enjoyed it. He made all the right noises in the right places and when he turned around and the stranger knelt in front of him Spencer placed his hands on the top of the guys head and tipped his own back and arched his back and cried out in pleasure. His fingernails dug into the scalp and for a sort while he was able to pretend this was someone else.

Next time he would make sure the guy had longer hair though. He finally took his hands away from the head and stood with his back to the wall as his play mate stood up. Reid readjusted his clothing and turned to walk away. A hand on his shoulder.

"Again tomorrow?" The guy asked.

"I don't think so." Spencer walked back into the crowd and then out of the front doors and into the street.

He spent his night laying in the filth of his bedroom. He didn't sleep. He just lay there – holding onto himself – trying to remember – desperate not to forget Floyd's face, voice and special smell.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10 Help

Chapter 10

Help

_I'm not supposed to love you, I'm not supposed to care, I'm not supposed to live my life wishing you were there. I'm not supposed to wonder where you are or what you do...I'm sorry I can't __help__ myself, I'm in love with you__: - Author unknown_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Hotch got a call from security. Reid was there and wanted to come up. Hotch gave them the OK and sat looking at the elevator doors from where he sat.

The thing which exited the car when the doors pinged open was barely recognisable. Hotch took a deep breath. He had been expecting something bad but this was beyond that. He ran his hand through the front of his hair and went out to meet him.

"Just come on up." He called over.

A few people looked up but if they hadn't been told who it was it was unlikely they would have known. It wasn't until he walked past Morgan's desk and he looked sideways at the person that he recognised the hands. The long fingers and the fingernails. Reid was in Hotch's office before he could fully react to what he thought he had seen.

He looked over at Emily. "Was that Reid?"

She looked from Morgan up to Hotch's office and shook her head. "Was it? I wasn't looking."

"Well he walked right by me and I'm still not sure."

-o-o-o-

He walked in the office and closed and locked the door behind him.

"Take a seat Reid."

Spencer sat his skinny filthy form down on the chair the other side of Aaron's desk. He rubbed at his nose and looked nervously around him. He was smelling a bit ripe and it didn't look like his hair had been washed in months.

"I need your help."

At last he was asking for help.

"Anything. You know that."

Spencer twisted his fingers on his read jeaned lap. "I want Floyd found."

"Anything but that. There is nothing I can do. It's not my job to locate you wayward boyfriend Reid." He watched Spencer's pale thin arms wrap around his sleeveless grubby red Tshirt.

"I'm not asking for the BAU to get involved Hotch. I just need to know what happened. I need to be able to move on and I can't properly not knowing what happened to him."

Hotch rummaged through some paperwork. "Reid I will help you out financially. I will find a good rehab program for you. I will do anything for you, but Floyd – I can't help you there. He is probably in Italy or somewhere in Europe. You know he can never be traced. You are asking the impossible."

"I don't need money and I don't need rehab." Spencer stood up.

"I know a good counsellor."

"I was mistaken. Sorry. I won't bother you again." He got up and went to the door.

Hotch watched Reid leave again. He watched the way he walked and wished he could be the comfort for him that he used to be, but that was too long ago now. Too much had happened. Spencer kept his head down and avoided eye contact with everyone and stood at the elevator looking every bit the junky that Hotch suspected he now was. It was a relief to see him step through the doors and disappear back to where he had come from. With a sigh he returned to his desk and got back to the job he was here to do. The job which lost him his wife and son. The job which was the only thing holding him together and he wondered how he would cope if it was suddenly taken from him.

-o-o-o-

Spencer walked to where he worked. He hadn't called in sick. He had just not bothered going in. He was in the lobby waiting again for an elevator when someone spoke to him.

"Christ Reid. What the hell?"

He turned to look at Phil. "Oh hi."

"What on earth? What are you wearing? Why aren't you in work? Christ Reid."

Spencer pulled a letter out of his messenger bag and held it out to Phil. "Give this to the boss for me."

Phil looked down at the letter and then up at Reid. "No…no mate…not until you have a coffee with me and explain."

"I really don't want to."

Being careful not to touch his work mate Phil indicated the small canteen. "One coffee. That's all and then I will be gone with the letter."

Spencer turned and walked over to the small room with plastic chairs and a woman serving hot sweet coffee. He placed the letter on the table.

He fiddled with his fingers and looked at spot behind Phil for about ten minutes. "My partner – has gone missing."

"Your girlfriend? She run off with someone?" Phil looked sympathetic for a small while.

"Boyfriend. And no he hasn't run off."

"Oh. Missing how?"

Reid pushed the letter over to Phil. "Please."

Phil nodded and picked it up. "I don't want to be funny – but don't guys in the gay community have problems with committing to relationships?"

"Well yes, but we have been together for years. So there you have it. My gay lover has run off and this little fag is having a problem coping."

Phil put the letter in his pocket. "I didn't mean it like that Reid. I'm sorry mate. I hope he comes back."

Spencer shook his head. "He's dead." He then stood up and left the room leaving a confused Phil behind him.

-o-o-o-

He went home and locked the doors and windows and then double checked he had locked them. He pulled off his dirty clothes and left them for the laundry and stood looking at his body in the mirror. Covered in scars – much too thin. He ran a finger over all the little marks and dents on his body and over his throat where there was still a faint hint of a scar and then over the one running across his ribs.

He padded into the bathroom and used the toilet but he hadn't used the shower or tub since Floyd last cleaned in here. He couldn't stand the thought that all Floyd's hard work would be washed away by his filth. He ran a finger over the edge of the bathtub. The smell of bleach had long gone but he could still almost see Floyd here with his bottle or bleach. But only almost.

Spencer walked to his old bedroom and stood looking down at the bed and tried to picture Floyd laying there curled up waiting. He wiped angrily at his eyes and left the room slamming the door behind him.

-o-o-o-

Mesh vest top and black cords. Again he stood against the bar listening to the throb of the horrendous music and looked around for someone he could use. He saw the guy he wanted dancing alone on the floor. A bit shorter than himself, but slim and with long dark hair. He placed his half full bottle on the bar and walked over the dance floor to his chosen mark. He stood in front of him and watched. He stood closer and brushed his hand against the dark haired dancer who now stopped and looked over at Reid. Spencer looked back at him and nodded over towards the entrance to the back room. The dark haired guy looked Spencer over and shook his head then started to dance again.

Reid's heart was thumping so hard he thought it could be heard over the music. He moved in again and put a hand on the guys shoulder. He leaned in and said something in his ear. Dark hair moved back and smiled at Reid and gave a small nod.

Spencer took him with his mouth and then they swapped places. This is what Reid needed. He put his hands on the top of the head and twisted his fingers through the long locks. He looked down and smiled. The actual process was not that exciting. But being able to lock that image in his head again was precious. When dark hair stood up again Spencer took him into a deep hard kiss. Their sweaty bodies rubbing against each other. And now dark hair was saying something in Spencer's ear. He pulled back and nodded a reply.

He knew what he was doing was stupid. He knew he was asking for trouble and would probably find it. He was expecting his evening to end up in a body bag or in A&E and right now he didn't mind which. He just knew that he was putting himself into a stupidly dangerous situation and he didn't care.

Spencer's new friend had arrived in some one else's car and so it was Reid who drove back to the small apartment the dark haired guy lived in. Reid knew the directions as soon as the address was given to him.

"You have been there before?"

"No – it's on the map."

"Oh."

It was a nice little place and the layout reminded Spencer of the place he had when he was at the BAU.

His new friend whose name happened to be Larry made sweet coffee and put on some mood music - a bit more to Reid's liking, he flicked through the CD's Larry had on the shelf. There were no books. It seemed odd to not have books, but there was a pile of graphic novels. Spencer picked one up and began to flip through the pages quickly – not taking the time to look at the artwork. Just wanting new words to fill his head and cover over the ones he was trying to forget.

"You like comics?" Larry asked from the kitchen door.

"Uh hu. Yes." He put it down again and walked over to take the coffee.

"So the bedroom is over here." Larry took Spencer's hand and lead him to another doorway.

They got even hotter and sweatier and Spencer kept his eyes shut for as long as he could. He imagined other lines as he ran his fingers over this person's body, and he heard a different voice as he listened to Larry and instead of the soft gentle hands he felt the hard calloused hands of Floyd.

He insisted on going bareback. Larry wasn't happy about this at first but Reid's mouth persuaded him to do what he wanted. Reid had found he had a very persuasive mouth when he wanted. Even Floyd had found it hard to resist.

Spencer lay on his back his hands above his head holding onto the headboard and squeezed his eyes tight. He could feel the pounding Larry was giving him and he could smell the sweat and feel the slight tickle of the hair brushing on his damp skin. And as Spencer arched his back and Larry moaned out in pleasure something screamed.

_What in fucks name are you doing?_

The voice shot through his head so hard and painfully that it made his nose bleed.

"Get – get off me. Oh god get off me."

Spencer started to push Larry away from him but an earthquake wouldn't have been able to stop Larry now. Reid grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.

"This is a mistake. Stop. Get off me."

"Not – yet." And the alarm on Spencer's face seemed to make things all the better for him.

Spencer wiped at the blood and again tried to get Larry off who was now so far gone into his world that Reid didn't think he could hear him anyway. And so he slapped him.

It was only a small slap. To bring him back to now. To make him listen. He didn't intend causing harm and he didn't. Larry on the other hand lashed out back smacking Reid into the day before. He lay on the bed looking up at the man that for some twisted moment he thought might be able to replace Floyd. If not in his heart then in his bed – but all he had found was another set of fists ready to just take what they want.

When Larry had finished he rolled of Spencer and smiled happily. "Wow Spencer. That was amazing."

"I asked you to stop."

"What?"

Reid climbed off the bed and started to pull his clothes back on again. "I asked you to stop."

"But I thought you were playing."

He pulled his Tshirt on over his head. "Why would I say that as a joke?"

"I thought it was to get me you know – and the slap. Awesome."

"It wasn't meant to excite you."

"Come over here before you go." Larry put his hands out to Spencer. "I can't have you going and not give you something."

"I'm fine. I need to go. Uh thank you." But Larry grabbed something out of the side cabinet drawer and handed it over to him.

"What's this?" Reid looked at it in his hand.

"Fifty dollars."

"I can see that."

"Well take it and go…you were worth every dime."

Spencer dropped the money on the floor. "I'm not a whore."

"Right of course not." A small laugh.

Larry picked up the money and shoved it down the front of Spencer's jeans and laughed again. "Clear off now will you. I need to get your stink off me."

-o-o-o-

He lay and felt the little things nibbling on him as he slowly sunk further into the forest floor.

It happened suddenly. An image shot through his head. It was as though he was on the ceiling looking down. He could clearly see Spence. His Spence – the only reason he was bothering to fight what was happening to him and Spencer was happily screwing with someone.

He lay and watched for a while and felt tears which he would later put down to anger, but right now they just felt sad, running down across his face and cutting a trench through the mud on his face.

He tried to call out to him….he opened his mind and called his name but the signal was too weak. It was when he saw the defeated look on Reid's face that he managed to get a message through to him.

_What in fucks name are you doing?_

He knew Spencer had heard him. He could see the look on his face. He saw him struggle against this person. He saw this person hit his Spence. But a follow up message wasn't possible. Floyd did now have a good reason to pull himself back together. He had a job to complete.

-o-o-o-

He stood outside the apartment with his earnings in his hand.

Floyd was still alive. He had heard him. He was sure he had heard him. So if he was still alive and could still contact him where was he? He got in the car and sat leaning on the steering wheal for a while. He felt sick and happy and excited and angry and sad all at the same time. He opened up the glove compartment and shoved the money in and pulled out a small envelope. It was plain white and had a little tag to keep it closed. He slipped the tag out of its housing and licked his finger. He dipped it into the white powder and then licked it off his finger.

He started to drive home with a happy buzz in his head. He didn't see all the red lights he jumped and he didn't notice how he scarped his car along the sides of the parked cars along the street. He didn't notice the guy jump back out of the way as Spencer drove home in a daze. He wasn't really aware of anything until the next day when a hand on his shoulder made him scream and try to get up from where he was laying and escape.

"You can't sleep there."

Spencer moved so he could see who was talking to him. A police officer stood above him with a frown on his face. Reid now looked around himself to see where he was.

"What happened?" He pushed himself up to his knees…it was now he noticed he had been sick at some point and his nose had been bleeding again. "Oh god."

He was on the pathway that lead to a small bridge over the river. Spencer looked around for his car and saw it parked at a strange angle on the grass. It wasn't quite light yet. The police officer put a hand out and helped Reid to his feet. Do you have a home to go to?

He nodded. "My car." He pointed over to the silver SUV which was in fact Floyd's not his.

"I don't think you will be driving anywhere sonny. What did you take?"

"Take?" Spencer took three steps towards the car and his legs folded up under him.

"I think I will take you down the station to sober up."

But Spencer didn't answer…he slipped forwards onto his face again.

-o-o-o-

There was no one to call to come and collect him later that day. He slept off his intoxication on the floor of a cell at the precinct. They had no idea who he was or where he came from. A drifter. One of the many young men who leave home in a desperate search for themselves and end up dead in a gutter somewhere. They had a good idea that this one had been sleeping rough for weeks, and assumed he had 'borrowed' someone's car for his 'trip' down to the river. He was just lucky that no one had been killed.

When he was with it enough to remember his name and address they offered to give him a lift home. It was an offer they insisted on keeping.

They pulled up in the street outside his place. The only one in the street with a long lawn and the curtains all closed up.

"You live here?"

"Yes." For some reason talking hurt. A lot.

"Who with?"

A hand over his head which he was sure was about to explode. "Alone."

"You have a key?"

"Uh – yes."

"Can I see the key?"

"Well it's with the car keys."

The officer held up the keys. "Which one?"

"Silver one with the 'F' engraved on it.

They watched him walk up the path to the porch. They watched his shaking hands slide the key into the lock and then open the door. And then they saw the door close.

What they didn't see was Spencer slide to the floor the other side of the door and pull his knees up and wrap his arms around his legs. They didn't hear the muttering of

"I'm sorry – I'm sorry – oh God Floyd I am so sorry. Forgive me Floyd – please talk to me. I am so sorry."

They didn't see him get up later and walk to the bathroom and open the cupboard and take out that special little thing he kept there for times like this. He looked down at his exposed arm and sighed.

* * *

_The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed: - __Buddha _

* * *


	11. Chapter 11 Scum

Chapter 11

Scum

_It's weird...you know the end of something great is coming, but you want to hold on, just for one more second...just so it can hurt a little more__: - Author Unknown_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Spencer lay on the bed on his front. There was a bit of cloth tightly wrapped around his wrist. That was the only item of clothing he had on. He tried to remember what Floyd smelt like. He tried to remember what the texture of his hair was like. He was angry. If Floyd was still out there somewhere – if he was able to still monitor what he was doing, then why leave him to try to cope with all this alone?

Why had he like everyone else in his life abandoned him?

Because he was filth.

Because he didn't deserve friendship and love.

Because he was nothing.

He wanted to sleep, but he didn't. He spent the night slowly letting the smells from the big four poster bed seep into his skin. He needed help. Spencer was aware of that. Later. Yes later he would make an appointment and go to see his doctor. Maybe he can help. Suggest something. Give him something.

-o-o-o-

And so he sat in the doctor's office awaiting his turn. He had on a pair of dark grey trousers and a black long sleeved shirt. His name was called out and he got up to go and see if anything could be done.

"I can't sleep?"

"I can give you something to assist in getting you back into a regular sleeping pattern."

"I can't eat."

"Little and often Dr Reid but you must eat. Make sure you take supplements"

"I am in pain."

"I can give you something to help there too."

That was it. That was the help. No questions asked. He walked out with a script for sleeping pills, vitamins, and painkillers. Treat everything with a pill. Cover up the reason. Spencer had neglected to tell the doctor that he was cutting and burning himself. He didn't tell the doctor that he was having unprotected sex in the hopes of catching something. He didn't tell him about his refusal to wash or the voice he heard. Those things would get a different sort of pill and he knew a better place to get medication for that.

He placed the scrip on the pharmacy counter. The woman looked up at Spencer and then back down to the script.

"Do you have any ID on you?"

A shake of the head.

"I will be right back. Wait here please."

She called the doctor's office to see he could give her an ID on he person he had just written the script for. "Tall skinny junky. He needs a bath and hairwash."

The girl returned and handed over the medication to Spencer. "Have a nice day." She wished him.

He didn't reply.

Spencer took the supply home and sat on the couch looking at the contents of the bag. He had forgotten to get any milk. He had forgotten to get any food and so he had a glass of water and a lap full of pills.

He crunched on the painkillers and then on the vitamins and swallowed the water. He decided to save the sleeping pills for when he really needed them. He put his feet up on the couch and rested his head on a cushion and closed his eyes.

Spencer tried to think of good times he had with Floyd – but the good times are always over shadowed by the bad. As he slipped into a much needed sleep he could almost feel the spiteful hands around his throat and the smell of unwashed bodies on the hand clamped over his mouth. He almost wondered why he was so lost without it.

-o-o-o-

It was night time when he woke up. He sat up in the darkness and wiped at the sticky blood which had oozed from his nose as he slept. He needed to wash his face. He also needed to shave. Slowly he got up spilling the contents of his lap onto the floor and knocking over the glass of water and he walked to the bathroom.

There was dried blood on the floor and in the sink and over the mirror and walls. Floyd would go ballistic. But Floyd wasn't there so it didn't matter. He turned on the hot tap and watched the water turn pink as it washed away what Spencer had released from his arm the day before. Or was it today? He couldn't remember anymore. Days and nights all seemed to run into one thing. He washed the muck off his face and then picked up his electric razor. Floyd always wet shaved, but he wouldn't let Spencer and so he ran the razor over his chin and removed the few days fuzz which had grown there. The steam had now misted over the mirror. Floyd hated him doing this. He got even more made when he wrote in the mist. But Floyd wasn't here now. He wrote in mirror writing 'Where are you?' and then cleaned his teeth and left the room.

Still in the jeans and shirt and with his bag over his shoulder he went to find the house the lady who did the dusting lived in.

He pressed the doorbell and stood waiting.

"Oh hello Dr Reid." She said with a strange smile on her face.

"Hi – I erm – I wanted to ask if you would give my place a miss from now on. I will still pay you. Maybe you can collect up any rubbish blown in the garden? But I really don't need anyone in the house."

"I understand Dr Reid. I will make sure your front yard stays nice."

"Do you know someone who might cut the grass?"

"I will find someone for you Dr Reid."

"Let me know. I will pay the going rate."

"Yes I am sure you will. Thank you." He nodded and started to leave. "Dr Reid." He stopped and turned back again. "I know it is not my business but you know if you need someone to talk to."

"I will remember. Thank you – but I really have nothing to say."

She watched him turn and walk away. She remembered the day they had moved in. Him and his boyfriend. How happy they had seemed and how quickly everything went wrong. Drugs. It's always drugs with these young arty types – she watched his back and the way – though he was now a broken person –the way he walked. Something very seductive in that walk. She wondered if he was aware of it.

Spencer pulled the keys out of his pocket and got into the car.

He needed milk. Which meant going into the town and finding somewhere to park and then walking to the store. He had been told to eat too and so eggs wouldn't be a bad idea. Gideon always made him eggs. That was before he walked out of his life. Along with everything else. He pulled into a parking space and sighed. A trip to the store wasn't his idea of fun. Why did all these shoppers have such smiles on their faces? Some of them seemed too big for their faces. He sat in car and stared at the freak show for about half an hour and then got out walked down to the elevator. He pressed the 'down' button and stood with his hands in his pockets and waited for the doors to 'ping' open for him.

The shop was packed. The queues of people with baskets and trolleys snaked back through the shop. He wouldn't get milk here. There were too many people and they were all staring at the bit of filth standing looking around him. Every eye was concentrated on him and every word spoken was about him. The bile of panic was rising in his throat and the twisting sick feeling in his gut told him he was going to be sick.

Spencer made it to the men's room just in time. He knelt on the public bathroom floor and threw up water and bile into the toilet bowl. He then stood and walked to the urinals. A guy walked over and started to unzip to relieve himself in the one next to Reid. Spencer glanced over at him. He was sure he had seen him somewhere before. He tried to remember where it was. Maybe the club. Had he seen him at the club?

"I've seen you somewhere before." Spencer suddenly said.

"Oh? And where was that?" And the man smiled at Reid.

"At the club. I saw you in the backroom. I'm sure it was you."

Again the man smiled and Spencer made the fatal mistake of smiling back as he finished what he was doing.

He wasn't sure what was happening now. The guy had his hands on him, but not in the places he expected. He grabbed him and pushed him against the wall and was shouting something at him…Spencer panicked. He more than panicked – he completely freaked out as he felt the cuffs being slapped on his wrists and the shouting, but in his panic he couldn't hear what was being said. He kicked and he head butted and he tried to get away, but it didn't take much for Officer Arnold to get Reid to the floor and properly restrained.

"Are you resisting arrest?"

"I didn't – didn't do anything!"

-o-o-o-

He sat in the cell on the cold hard bench and avoided the looks from the other people around him. He kept his eyes firmly down looking at the small spot on the floor. Spencer was allowed to call someone. He thought seriously about this. Through the fuzzy greyness of him mind there were a very limited number of people he would be able to call.

Hotch: Who didn't seem to give a damn anymore. Except he had asked for help with Floyd – and so this was different.

Garcia: Who would want to do something and probably could, but it was putting too much on her.

Phil: He had offered to be a shoulder – someone to talk to, not someone to get him out of trouble for soliciting in the supermarket toilets.

With a sinking feeling of a total sell out he called Hotch.

"Hotch – I er – no." He listened. "No – it's not that. I've been arrested." A pause. "Soliciting." Listening. "No I wasn't and no I can't prove it. Please can you come down?" He listened again. "OK – yes I understand. Thank you." He hung up the phone. Hotch was on a case out of state. He advised Spencer got a lawyer."

Gradually the other people in the cell were called and released. Spencer sat and waited. He had asked them to get him a lawyer. They were 'working on it' for him. They didn't seem to be in any hurry.

They asked him if anyone would be missing him.

"No."

"Family?"

"No."

"Work?"

"I am unemployed."

"Friends?"

"No."

"There must be someone. A girlfriend? Sorry…boyfriend?"

"He's dead. There is no one who will miss me."

They looked at the sad guy in the cell and wondered how someone ended up with nothing.

The lawyer eventually came and Spencer was taken to an interview room.

He sat down behind the desk and wrung his hands in his lap.

"You know why you are here?"

"Yes – I was set up."

The lawyer looked over at Spencer. "Can I have a few words with him alone please?"

The police detective stood and nodded and then left the room.

Megwith the lawyer turned to Spencer. "You need to let me talk for you. That is why I am here."

"Well it's what happened."

"It doesn't matter what happened. Let me do the talking for you. This could mean prison. You are aware of that."

Reid turned to look at him. "I didn't do anything."

"You solicited."

"No I didn't."

"Are you on drugs?"

"What?"

"Well they seem to go together. Prostitution and drugs."

"I didn't do it."

"You engaged him in flirtatious talk whilst holding your penis. What would you call that?"

Spencer stood up. "It wasn't like that!"

"Let me do the talking. Do you take drugs?"

"You don't believe me. I will speak for myself."

"Whether I believe you or not has nothing to do with it Dr Reid."

"Well I think it does. Please leave. I don't need your help."

The lawyer stood up. "Have it your way Dr Reid. Have fun in prison."

Reid sat down again and put his head on the table wrapping his arms tightly around it. His head was pounding and his pain killers had been taken from him. He was taken back to the holding cell and given a sandwich.

"I need my pain killers." But they ignored the little pervert and went back to work.

He didn't eat the sandwich. He didn't sleep. He found that little spot on the floor again and tried to focus everything on it. The pounding in his head was joined by a spinning feeling and a light headedness that made him close his eyes as the room started to spin. He somehow managed to be on the floor with his arms curled around his head when a boot tapped him slightly.

"Get up. There is someone needs to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to anyone. Leave me alone."

"You don't have a choice. Get up." They dragged him up off the floor and half dragged the damp stinking druggy whore down the passage and back to the interview room. He kept his eyes closed. It was the only way to stop the spinning and the need to vomit. As they deposited him into the chair again his nose started the steady drip of blood onto the old wooden surface.

"Reid." Hotch's voice.

He wanted to look up at him but he knew if he opened his eyes he would die.

"I got here as soon as I could."

"Thank you."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

"I don't know anymore." He rested his head on the table. "I just don't know. I can't think."

Hotch wanted to reach over and pull Spencer to him but this wasn't the time or place. He sat and looked at him for a while.

"Reid. I have arranged bail. I want you to come home with me for a while."

Spencer looked up.

"I'm not sure that is such a good idea. I have my own home Hotch."

"I'm aware of that, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to be on your own."

"I will be alright Hotch."

"Look around you Spencer. Take a good look and then tell me everything is alright. Picked up for soliciting in public restrooms."

Spencer shook his head and thought his skull had caved in… He put his hands to his head. "I didn't do it Hotch."

And now a hand reached over and touched him on the arm. "I know."

"You do?"

"You just said you didn't do it. I believe you."

"I still don't know if it's a good idea."

"It's one of the conditions of bail I'm afraid. You will come back to my place and I will take leave and keep you safe."

"I have my own life and I don't think – I don't know – Floyd – he – he won't like it."

Hotchner nodded. "I completely understand. But he is not here Spencer and I am. Until he comes and complains then I want you to stay with me. Nothing more than friends and someone to talk to. That's all."

-o-o-o-

He lay rotting and felt the ooze running from his eyes down the side of his face. His breathing was heavy and irregular. "babes." A whisper as he looked through his mind at the visions he was getting.

The degradation turned him on. The way he looked made him want to scream with happiness. He could only imagine the smell. It made what was left of his mind spin with delight.

He watched the way he cut and the he saw the sadness in his eyes. He watched the man he had broken and now it was too fucking late because all he could do was lay here and rot and watch when all he wanted to do was take him and screw him until he begged him to stop. Finally he had done his job. And now Aaron Fucking Hotchner was going to ruin it all. Was going to make him wash and prevent him whoring. It gave Floyd another reason to pull himself out of this mess and get back to Reid. But he couldn't. Spencer thought he was dead. He told people he was dead. Spencer had given up on him….but he would never give up on Spencer….so for now he was stuck here rotting and becoming one with the sodding forest and eventually he would stop existing. Well for a while anyway. Nothing is permanent. Ever…this was a temporary set back -

Until Spencer – until he was convinced he was still alive. Now all he had to do was convince the filthy bit of wonderful desirable scum.

* * *

_In the end we are all separate: our stories, no matter how similar, come to a fork and diverge. We are drawn to each other because of our similarities, but it is our differences we must learn to respect_

* * *


	12. Chapter 12 Dreams

Chapter 12

Dreams

_The wisest men follow their own direction__: - __Euripides_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Spencer wanted to go home first. Pick up some clothes and something else he had seen in Floyd's side drawer. He stood alone in the lounge and looked around at the filthy mess he was living in.

Hotch was waiting outside in the car. He had asked for a bit of time alone, and now he felt like he needed a lot of time alone. He wondered how long Aaron would wait for him before he came hammering on the door – or even just letting himself in. Reid walked down the hallway to the room at the end. He ran his fingers over the paintwork and with a deep sigh he opened the door.

It was almost immediate. The feeling of such loss and bereavement. He walked over to the bed – bending down occasionally to pick something up off the floor. He smiled at them and tossed them on the dirty soiled bed. One more time. One last time – and then he would get someone in to clear the whole place out and he would start over again. Floyd wasn't coming home he knew that. The voice had heard just that once was his imagination. Whatever had taken Floyd in the woods…whatever it was that made him scream, wasn't going to let him come back.

He crawl onto the bed and buried his face into the pillows. The pillows Floyd had got him when he got the bed. The bed they had at the cottage on the coast. Back before things were quite as dreadful. When he could trust Aaron. Spencer rummaged in his bag and pulled out the pain killers. He threw four onto his palm and slipped them into his mouth crunching hard down on the bitter taste.

Spencer lay on his back now and stared up at the canopy and tried to remember what it had been like with Floyd next to him touching and kissing and making love.

"Reid?" The voice made Spencer jump and sit up.

"Hotch."

"I've been waiting over half an hour. Did you get what you needed?"

Spencer bit on his bottom lip. "Uh – no."

He put down the toy he had been clutching and slid off the bed. "I just – well…"

"Just get what you need. It's OK Spencer." Hotch was trying really hard to be understanding here, but he was finding it hard to understand how Reid could have been living in this place. He didn't understand how someone who had been so sweet and innocent was now what appeared to be just another seedy little sleaze. He sighed and followed Reid out of the room and into the room that used to be his. Spencer pulled a bag out of the closet and started to throw items of clothing in it. Hotch watched has Spencer's hand drifted over his shirts and pairs of trousers hanging there and pulled out jeans and Tshirt that looked like would never fit him.

Aaron wanted to tell him to grow up and pick out proper clothes, but that wasn't going to help. He was trying to be there for him, but this was going to have to be a two arrangement and so for now he said nothing.

-o-o-o-

Aaron showed Reid to the room he would be staying in. Spencer noted bars on the window and locks on the door but for now he said nothing. He took out of his bag things to put in the empty drawers Hotch had shown him and the special thing he had taken he slipped under the mattress. He really didn't know how this was going to work. Aaron was obviously not happy with Spencer's 'life choices' and Spencer wasn't going to give in easily to pressure from Hotch if it meant compromising what he thought he was. And he would never deny Floyd. Nothing could replace him. He knew that now.

Reid could smell coffee brewing and so went down to the kitchen.

"I've ordered pizza for later."

Spencer nodded.

"Coffee?" Stupid question Aaron thought. Spencer always has coffee.

"No thank you. Do you have something stronger?"

"It's lunch time."

"Oh."

Aaron poured him a coffee then got a prepack sandwich out of the fridge and handed it to Spencer. "Come – let's sit down and relax for a while."

Spencer walked to the lounge and Hotch followed. There was a horrendous smell following Reid. A deep drank rotting smell. He winced as Spencer planted his stinking form into one of his comfy chairs but for now managed to say nothing. He handed Spencer the coffee which he put down on the coffee table.

"This wont work." He blurted out.

Hotch sat on the couch and looked at him. "Why not?"

"Because you don't understand. You never have understood. I don't think any amount of explaining will get you to see what I did – do."

"I saw it too Spencer. You seem to be forgetting that." Aaron sipped on his coffee.

"Not really – you saw an image he was projecting for you – you never got to really know him. To feel he was part of you living in your soul. That was all mine and nothing can take that from me." He stood up and looked around the room.

Hotch watched him. "I'm not trying to take that away from you. I just want you to get well."

Spencer walked to the cabinet with the whiskey decanter on the top. He picked up a tumbler and poured a large amount into his glass. "You don't mind do you?" Reid held the drink up for Aaron to see.

"It's a bit early in the day to start heavy drinking."

"Well it's lucky you're not my father." A snort of laughter. "Really lucky."

Reid was pacing the room taking big swigs from the tumbler.

"Do you think you should eat if you are going to drink?"

"No – I don't want to eat, Aaron. I want to drink."

Hotch looked at Spencer behaving like a naughty school boy. The temptation to send him to his room was almost too much.

"Tell me exactly what happened in the men's room. I need you to have a clear head."

Spencer spun on Hotch. "I didn't solicit him." He sat back down in the big chair. "I recognised him. I said I had seen him at the club. That's all and he jumped me."

"What did you actually say to him Spencer. It's very important. The actual wording."

He could see Spencer's eyes flicking side to side as his brain retrieved the required information. "

"I said - I've seen you somewhere before and he asked where and so I said - At the club – I saw you in the backroom." That's all I said.

Hotch's eyes widened slightly. "And where were you exactly when you said this."

"I was at the urinal."

Hotch closed his eyes. "Spencer, think carefully, had you finished?"

Reid sat and looked at Hotch. "I didn't do anything wrong."

The day passed painfully slowly for both of them. Spencer refused to talk more about the men's room incident to Hotch. He wouldn't eat, he wouldn't wash, and his attitude was surly. Hotch wanted to shake him and make him listen, but he seemed set on what he intended to do.

"I'm going out."

Spencer stood up and started to walk to the front door.

"Where're you going?"

Reid turned and looked at Hotch. "I know you are trying to help, but you're not. Don't wait up. Is it OK if I bring someone home?"

"No Spencer it's not OK. You are meant to stay here with me."

"You're telling me I can't go out? Is that why there are bars on my window – to stop me escaping?"

Hotch walked over to Reid. "I realise what this probably feels like Reid, but I am trying to help you. If you go out now and something happens your case is lost. You will serve time."

He didn't say anything else to Aaron. He walked up the stairs and left Hotch to the sound of the door slamming shut.

Spencer knew Aaron was trying to help. He knew he should just stay here and keep his head down for a while, but if Aaron didn't so something to entertain him – like juggle or something Spencer thought he was going to go insane.

He locked the door and then lay on the bed and slipped his hand under the mattress. He pulled out a small twist of cellophane. The powder was a silvery grey colour. He rolled the small pack around in his fingers for a while and held it up to the light to watch it twinkle. He wasn't completely sure what it was and Floyd wasn't here to ask.

Spencer held it tightly in his hand and drifted off into a strange disturbed sleep.

-o-o-o-

Hotch was downstairs talking quietly to Derek who had turned up to try and find out what was going on.

The screams made them both stop and look up at the ceiling.

A piercing scream of horror.

Hotch started to run. He bounded up the stairs two at a time with Morgan close on his heels. The screams had changed now to a distressed howling. Reid's bedroom door was open and as Aaron ran into the room he saw how the interior lock had been ripped out of its housing.

Aaron went to see what had happened to Reid who was sitting on the bed pushing himself back as though he was trying to disappear into the wall behind him. His eyes were huge and his lips barely parted so that the awful sound he was making could find its way out. He took hold of Reid's shoulders.

"Reid – What the hell happened?"

Morgan had his gun in his hand and was looking around the room.

Aaron saw Spencer's eyes leave what they were still staring at and lock onto Aaron's. "Oh god Aaron. He was here." Spencer pushed Hotch's hands out of the way. "I've got to get out of here."

"Who was here? Spencer who did this?" Aaron looked around at Morgan who shrugged.

"Who do you think?! Oh god…I have to go." He slid down the bed and jumped off the end. "I'm sorry, I know you are trying to help but I can't stay here."

He ran from the room and down the stairs with Morgan in hot pursuit.

"Derek – no….let him go." Aaron called down at Morgan. "We can't keep him prisoner here and I want to know what the hell happened."

Aaron didn't realise that Spencer had snatched his car keys from the hall table until he heard the sound of wheels on gravel.

-o-o-o-

He wasn't sure where he was going or how long it was going to take, he just knew he had to get away from the nightmare he had just seen.

At first he thought it was a bad dream. He could hear Floyd's voice calling his name. It sounded a bit muffled at first until Spencer realised that the voice was coming from the other side of the door and it was not a happy voice.

'_You let him touch you Spence. I am here rotting and you are planning on screwing around with Agent Aaron Hotchner.' _

A voice in his head maybe. Floyd couldn't be here. Floyd was gone. If he was able to come back he would have come back by now. Spencer knew that much.

'_I die for you and you go straight back to Hotchner. I thought you loved me Spencer.'_

The door started to rattle. "Floyd?"

'_How could you do this to me Spencer? Go sell your body. Show that you love me. Show me something so I know you miss me.'_

He could hear the wood splitting around the lock.

'_Let me in babes. I want to see you.'_

The thing that came through the door wasn't Floyd. It was a monstrous maggot ridden lump of something disgusting and it was this image Spencer needed to get out of his head.

-o-o-o-

Most of the area was plunged into darkness. Spencer had been here many times before but not for this reason. He pulled the car up into the deep shadows and got out.

"It's OK Floyd I will fix it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He walked down the pathway into the area well known as somewhere nice people didn't go at night. But Spencer wasn't nice. Spencer was filth and now he had been reminded that he was not only filth but someone able to betray the one he loves more than anything. He would do anything for Floyd. He wants him to do this and then he will.

Spencer stood with his back against a tree in the edges of the shadows with his arms wrapped around him. He didn't have to wait long. Dirt like him never had to wait long. He advertised by the way he was dressed and the way he had the dark rings under his eyes and that fragile look about him. This person will do anything for next to nothing.

He was a business man. In a suit but his tie removed from the shirt. He put a hand lightly on Spencer's shoulder. Reid hardly glanced at him but nodded and walked off into the dark.

The guy liked the look of Spencer's mouth. He wanted to know what tricks he could do with that mouth and that tongue of his. Spencer had a good teacher when it came to this. He knew exactly what to do and when to do it and how to stop and then start again at the right time. He could feel the high paid business man holding onto his dirty hair and moan out as Spencer took him to the point of no return.

He then pulled Reid up off the floor and pushed him against a tree. He rammed into Spencer making Reid cry out in a strange twisted pleasure. He could feel hot breath on the back of his neck and hands sliding under his clothing and over his sweaty skin. Holding him and taunting him as he pushed harder forcing little sounds out of Spencer as he arched his back and held onto the tree. The guy finished before Spencer, but it didn't bother him. He pulled back from the whore he had chosen and pulled him around to face.

"Here." He put some money in Spencer's hand and walked off out of the shadows and back down the path in the direction he had come from. Spencer put the money in his pocket and started to walk down towards the river.

He was tempting fate going down that at night alone, but tonight he felt he needed to be reminded of what he was. He could still taste the man in his mouth. He didn't have that lovely after taste Floyd did. He should have had mints with him. Maybe that was why Floyd sometimes carried them. You never know when you will bump into someone who will ask you for a blow.

Spencer found a bench and sat with his feet up and his arms around himself. It was cold and the hairs on the back of his arms stood up in an attempt to keep him warm. He looked down at the small dressing he still had on his wrist and pulled it off. There was a nice damp scab under it which he picked at until he opened the wound again and got a nice small flow of blood.

"I'm here. I did what you want. Where are you?"

_Healing._

'I need you.'

_I know._

'Where are you?'

_I don't know._

'I want to come to you.'

_No you don't. Not yet. Soon – I will call you._

'I have to go back to Hotch.'

_I don't want you touching him._

'I won't.'

_Go back to him Spence, but be careful and when I say, I want you to leave and come to me._

'I will'

_No objections._

'No.'

_Don't forget me Spence._

'How can I?'

_Go – go back to Aaron. Let him keep you safe. Just don't give him favours._

'I wouldn't.'

_You are free to give it to others though. Whenever you want to sell your filthy scum body. If anyone will have it._

'Thank you.'

_Don't wash._

'I won't.'

_And Spence – I love you, you do know that don't you?_

'Love you too.'

-o-o-o-

He pulled up into Aaron's drive and turned off the engine. When he looked up Hotch was standing at the door. He didn't look happy. With a sigh Reid got out of the car and walked over to him.

"I need to talk to you." Reid said before Aaron could start.

Hotch nodded and walked back into his house. Reid followed and sat in the lounge with Aaron. Morgan was still there looking mighty pissed off about something. Spencer thought it was probably him.

"I need to say something. I don't want you to interrupt. Just let me say it."

Both men nodded.

"I will stay here and I will do what you ask. I won't bring people back but I need to be free to leave when I have to. I don't want you telling me to wash and I don't want you to tell me when and what to eat. I don't want you touching me. I don't mean that in a sexual way. I mean no touching period. No hugs – no hands on arm. Nothing. Floyd is out there somewhere and I need to get better and go and find him. I can't just leave it like it is."

"I understand. Now you will hear my rules. You will tell me where you are going. You not do drugs in my home and you will ask if you want the car."

"Yes'm."

"We will be going to court and I would like you to at least pretend to look normal. You don't want to wash. I don't understand that, but Spencer you will keep as clean as you can. Are you bleeding again?"

"Oh it's nothing…The same cut – I knocked the scab." Reid put a grubby hand over the wound.

"Where have you been man, we were worried." Morgan spoke for the first time.

Spencer put his hand in his pocket and pulled out twenty dollars. "Here." He leaned forwards and put it on the table.

"What's that for?" Aaron looked suspiciously at the money.

"Rent money."

"I'm not asking you for rent."

Spencer grinned. "Not that sort of rent."

* * *

_I'd forgotten how to smile, until your candle burned my skin: - Rent_

* * *


	13. Chapter 13 Unlucky for Some

Chapter 13

Unlucky for Some

_Better keep yourself clean and bright. You are the window through which you must see the world: - __George Bernard Shaw _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

"We need to talk about the restroom incident." Hotch was watching Spencer who was standing looking out of the window onto the backyard.

"There's nothing to say about it really." He put his hands up and put his palms against the glass.

"I need to go over it all again so we know what to say in court."

Reid rested his forehead against the glass. "I would have you know. Had he asked me."

Hotch walked over to Spencer and stood next to him being careful not to make physical contact with him. "Would have what?"

A shrug. "We didn't get as far as talking about that."

"Are you trying to tell me something? Spencer you need to tell me – I can't read your mind."

"If he had asked – you know – I would have blown him – or screwed him. I know I would have – so it makes my guilty."

Aaron desperately wanted to put an arm around Spencer and comfort him, but all he could do was stand and watch this person slowly disintegrate.

"So you did solicit him?"

Reid turned and looked at Hotch. "No – no I didn't, but that's hardly the point is it. I would have – if he asked. If he solicited me. I wouldn't have hesitated." He looked back out of the window. "And then I would have asked for twenty bucks."

"I don't understand what has happened Spencer. Why are you doing this to yourself? That sort of behaviour is what we expect from people desperate for drugs money. You have money – Floyd saw to that. As much as I dislike him – he made sure you wouldn't need anything."

"Yes he saw to it. He always sees to it doesn't he?" Again he turned to Hotch. "You really think this life I have is a personal choice? Do you think I would rather be walking the parks looking for something rather than being part of the BAU? I lost everything when you threw me out."

"It wasn't my choice Spencer."

A sigh. "Moot point really. It happened."

Again the urge to comfort was almost overwhelming. Hotch moved away from Spencer afraid he would physically reach out for him and spook him into not talking. "Yes it happened, but it doesn't mean you have to do this. There are other jobs besides selling your body."

"But this is what Floyd wants me to do. He won't come back to me if I work in the local bookstore."

Hotch frowned at Spencer's narrow back. "But Floyd has gone. What makes you think doing this will bring him back?"

Reid turned to look at Hotch. "He told me. Yesterday when I was out. He told me I was free to do this. He wants me to do this."

Aaron looked into Spencer's eyes. "You saw him? Yesterday?"

A shake of the head. "No – I spoke to him – you know – in here." Reid touched his temple.

"I see and what did he have to say?"

"He laid down ground rules and told me to stay here with you."

"Rules. Spencer Floyd has gone. He's not here. You don't need to live by his twisted rules anymore. He can't hurt you."

"I'm going to my room if that's alright."

"Don't let me stop you."

He watched Reid walk away and down the hallway. Reid was completely unrecognisable except from behind when he was walking. Hotch didn't think Reid would ever lose that. "Spencer."

Reid stopped and turned to look at Hotch. "Yes?"

"A shower would do you good you know."

"Sorry Hotch." He turned and walked up the stairs.

Today he was going to try that dust. He couldn't sleep knowing he might see Floyd again. A rotting version of Floyd. It was slowly killing him inside thinking that was what he looked like now. Nothing left of the beauty Spencer originally fell in love with. Before he knew the spiteful hands – before he knew about the drugs and the rape and abuse – way back when he first really saw him and noticed that face. That was how he wanted to remember him and he hoped this powder would take him back to that place.

He closed his door but the lock was still broken and so he jammed the back of a chair under the handle. Hotch would understand. Maybe. He pulled his dirty clothes off and grabbed a clean pair of boxers and then flopped back onto his bed. He slid his hand under the mattress and pulled out the twist of powder.

"Well here goes nothing."

He did what Floyd always did. He took a pinch and rested on his thumbnail and inhaled. He had seen Floyd do this a million times and always wondered where he went when he did it. Wherever it was it was a place which made him smile.

For Spencer it made the room spin violently. It made him vomit and it made his muscles spasm. Once it subsided and he was laying half hanging over the side of the bed foaming gently from the mouth and bleeding from the nose – then he saw the rainbows and stars and things he couldn't quite explain. It was however quite wonderful. Everything felt pure and unblemished. All new and clean and weightless. This is what made Floyd so happy? Or was he seeing something different. It was a complete intense peace which Spencer didn't think he had ever felt before. It sort of made a strange sense to Spencer who lay with his hair hanging down resting in the growing pool of vomit and drool and blood. The noise was gradual. A sort of melodic lullaby.

Spencer closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Hotch took the time Spencer was resting to call a doctor. He didn't think he could persuade Reid to go and see one and so arranged for one to come to the house. He would get the case thrown out. Spencer was obviously suffering from a sort of delusional psychosis. Hotch didn't think that Spencer had any idea what he was doing when he was in the men's room and was seriously thinking that Reid should be getting full time professional help.

Luckily for Hotch he had connections with people through his job and arranged for someone to come out that afternoon to see Reid. He just hope Reid would understand why he had done this.

-o-o-o-

Initially Hotch was shocked at what Reid had put on, but then maybe the stranger the better for now.

His black trousers were held up with a big chunky belt with the word 'blow' embossed on the fancy front. The trousers were rolled up to mid calf and he had on a pair of black boots which disappeared up under the odd trousers. The top half of him was his 'bitch' vest. He had his grotty hair scraped back and tied at the back with a black band. He sat on the big chair with his legs crossed and his arms wrapped tightly around him.

Hotch wondered if he actually felt comfortable like this. It didn't look like he did. It was like a vile caricature of everything nasty you would find after midnight in the park and then he realised with a sick sinking feeling that was exactly what he was.

"I don't know what all the fuss is about." He quickly wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand and then started absent mindedly picking at the scabs on his arms.

"I just want you to talk. I will be in the next room if I am needed." Hotch left Reid to talk to the doctor he had called in.

Dr Jones looked at the thing sitting opposite him. Aaron had told him he used to be in the BAU. He was finding it hard to imagine that this person was the genius Aaron had talked to him about.

"So Spencer – what's going on?"

"With what?" He was looking over the doctor's shoulder.

"With your life. What makes you want to be who you are?"

"Want? You think I want this?"

"You don't?"

"Would you be a filthy scum whore out of choice? Or do you think circumstances have a big role in what happens to you?"

"This though Spencer you can change. Go wash – change your clothes – stop selling your body to anyone who will pay."

Reid shook his head. "It's not that easy though is it? He needs me to do this."

"Who needs you to? Agent Hotchner?"

Spencer let out a snort of a chuckle. "No- not Hotch."

"Someone has a hold over you. Talk to me about it. Tell me who it is."

"Floyd." And now his hands were on his lap twisting his fingers together.

The doctor looked at Reid. "I thought he was dead Spencer. How can he still tell you what to do?"

Reid looked up at him. "He's not dead. I thought for a while he was. But he's not."

"You saw him? You spoke with him? Is he watching you?"

"No I didn't see him – yes I spoke to him and yes he is watching me."

"So you have contact with him?"

"Nothing regular."

"I see and how does he contact you?"

Spencer put a finger to his head. "He is here."

-o-o-o-

The doctor had words with Aaron and gave him a prescription for something to try to stop the delusions and to help him sleep without the nightmares – but he thought Reid had to work through his grieving process and this was how he was doing it. It won't last long. He will stop eventually.

Aaron stood with the bit of paper in his hand. Always pills. There had to be a better answer. He went to see how Reid was and found him standing at the window again.

"Spencer – what are you looking at out there?" Hotch stood next to him.

"Nature. Have you noticed how everything rots and becomes part of it again? The earth actually needs the animals to rot and give back to the land."

"Can I get you anything?" He knew what Reid was thinking.

Spencer shook his head. "You have nothing I want Aaron."

"I need to go out and get a script filled. Come with me. Get out of the house."

"And risk getting arrested?" He slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Please Spencer – just for the ride in the car. Get some fresh air."

Reid rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and then his hand back in his pocket. "OK."

-o-o-o-

He sat in the car whilst Hotch went into see the pharmacist about the pills he was going to have to try to persuade Reid to take. That bridge he would cross later. Reid had promised not to leave the car and had refused to come into the store with him. There was a short queue and he stood patiently waiting his turn.

Reid sat and looked out of the window of the big SUV Hotch always drove. He was sure the comic store was just down the road from here. He looked up at the shop Hotch had gone in. There and back before Aaron would notice he had gone.

He walked down the road in a random direction realising after a few blocks that he was nowhere near the comic store. In fact he had no idea where he was. He looked around for road names but this place didn't seem to have any. Spencer looked back in the direction he had come from and blinked. He wasn't totally sure that was the direction he had come from now. He walked until he found a side ally and pulled himself back into the shadows. It was long and damp and full of old newspapers. Spencer looked down the ally way and started to walk.

Reid could hear music. He didn't know where it was coming from, but it was heavy smoky jazz. He leaned on the wall and listened to the lethargic sounds. A voice brought him round to here and now again.

"You're new around here." The voice was very close. Spencer could feel the hot breath on the side of his face. He looked up to see a tall thin gold toothed dark skinned man.

"Just visiting." He turned to leave and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Not so fast. I might have something you want." The hand moved to Spencer's arm.

"That's doubtful. Let go of my arm." He felt the hand grip tighter and pull him around to face.

"I pay well."

"I'm not for sale."

A hand touched his belt buckle. "Then what are you advertising yourself for bitch?"

"I – I'm not."

"Who are you waiting for?" He started walking towards the end of the ally way dragging Reid behind him.

"Let go of me – I wasn't waiting for anyone."

The grip got harder as Spencer started to twist his arm away from the stranger.

"Don't you fucking lie to me. I know your sort and stop trying to get away or I will show you what happens to bitches like you."

"I don't know what you think I am but you have misunderstood something." He finally pulled his arm out of the grip of the guy with the gold teeth.

The man turned to look at Reid who was in turn looking right back at him. "I told you not to do that." It took a few seconds for Reid's fuzzy mind to take in the object the man now had in his hand. He didn't react the way the guy with the gun expected.

"Great! Shoot me! That hasn't happened for at least – oh a few months now I expect. I am due I think." He stepped closer to the man. "Come on then! What are you waiting for?"

"Fucking junky." Were the words Spencer heard before the gun made contact with the side of his head and he crumpled to the floor. "Fucking stupid junky filth." He kicked the unconscious Spencer until he was next a big industrial bin then picked him up and deposited him into the bottom of the bin with the rest of the rubbish. He slammed the lid shut and walked back off where he had come from.

-o-o-o-

Hotch was out of the shop by now. He stood and looked at his car. The passenger door was open and Spencer was gone.

"Damn you Reid." He muttered to himself. He threw the pills onto the backseat of the car and locked up. Now he looked up and down the street to see if he could see him. He was quite unmissable in a crowd but he couldn't see him in any direction. Hotch sighed and stood wondering what to do next.

"Sir?" A female voice. "Are you looking for the guy you were with?"

Hotch looked at the teenage shop girl. "You saw him."

"Cant really miss him can you. He's gorgeous."

Hotch raised an eyebrow and wondered if they were talking about the same person. "Did you see where he went?"

She pointed down the road in the direction he had gone. "That way."

Aaron sighed and pulled a card out of his pocket. "I am going to look for him. If he comes back or if you see him, can you call me?"

"Sure – should I tell him you're looking for him?"

A head shake. "No – no – just let me know."

She looked at the card and her eyes widened. "Is he dangerous?"

"Not at all. Just not well. So you will call if you see him?"

"Sure." She turned and went back to the health food store she worked in.

-o-o-o-

He opened his eyes and found he was in darkness. A stinking vile darkness. He put his hands out and felt the dirty sides of the bin and then to the pain he had on the side of his head. He could feel sticky blood. He slowly stood and pushed open the bin lid. He hauled himself out and brushed down his clothes. Again he put his hand to his head and felt carefully to see how badly it had been cut. It didn't seem too bad, but head wounds always bled a lot. He knew that from personal experience. A lot of personal experience.

Spencer thought he was probably concussed as his vision was blurred and walking in a straight line was almost impossible. He stood for a while with his hands against the wall and brought up the water he had drunk that morning.

He carried on walking once he felt he could move and not be sick and finally after what felt like hours he made it out and into the street where he had started. The place was full of people. Everywhere there were people and they were all staring at him and talking about him. Some were in fast forward and some in slow motion but everyone turned to look at the garbage who wasn't even worth a bullet.

He needed to get away from here. He felt like circus freak. The voices of the people merged and became one mocking laugh.

Spencer ran. He pushed people out of the way. He grabbed them and pulled and pushed his way forward and as he finally got free of the pushing crushing bodies something hit him. It caught him on his side and forced his feet off the ground. He landed on something hard cracking his head and back against something which seemed to give and break behind him. For a few seconds he could hear the screaming of the people who had been laughing at him. He could hear car horns. He didn't think he could breathe. Something was stopping him getting air and a huge weight was pushing down on him stopping him from moving.

And as quickly as it started – it was over.

_Spence?_

_What the fuck happened?_

* * *


	14. Chapter 14 Smells

Chapter 14

Smells

_Floyd Flanders once said: - "I told you. You remember I will never abandon you completely. Even if it looks like I am gone. I'm still watching – always watching you Spence." (The Bookstore/Filth)_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Aaron stood watching helplessly as the ambulance crew worked on Reid.

When he first saw him laying on the car with his head smashed against the glass and the blood – too much blood – Aaron thought it had finally ended. He ran forwards and stood helplessly next to him afraid to touch him because if he did it made it all too real.

He gave the medics Spencer's name and then stood back again and let them do their job. He watched as they put a brace around his neck and rolled him onto a spinal board. He watched them try to get him breathing again when his lips went blue and the coughed blood. He watched as they shouted 'clear' and tried to get his heart started again and finally he watched as he was loaded into an ambulance and was taken away amidst the screaming or sirens and flashing lights.

The police were there asking questions and still Hotch stood and watched; only now his eyes were fixed on the blood all over the car he had been hurled onto.

They asked Hotch a few questions and then told him he could go. He needed to get to the hospital and be there for he person who didn't won't want him there because the person he needed had disappeared and left Reid to slowly become someone he didn't recognise anymore.

He sat for days next to the bed. He didn't hold Reid's hand. He hardly spoke. He was so angry with him. They kept him asleep as they tried to get the swelling down but they let Aaron know that this continual damage Reid was doing to his head will one day not be recoverable. They were amazed he was still alright – Hotch knew otherwise. And so he sat and listened to the bleeping of the machinery once again trying to keep this fragile person alive.

-o-o-o-

Reid sat in a light wooded area and ate an apple.

He was sitting on a big red rug with his legs crossed and the sun shining on his face. Floyd lay on the rug with his head on Spencer's lap and ate small strips of raw meat.

It was perfect. Everything was wonderful.

He ran his fingers through Floyd's hair and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "I wish it was always like this."

"You would soon get bored Spence."

"Naa – this is lovely. Just relaxing and being together. Nothing to interrupt us."

"Except the humming of the machinery keeping you alive."

"I'm ignoring it."

"Doesn't mean its not there though babes." Floyd rolled over onto his back and looked up at Spencer. "So we both have scars on our faces."

"Yu hu." He ran a finger over Floyd's face. "I don't mind if you don't mind."

Reid swallowed the bit of apple he had just bitten off and gave Floyd a quick kiss on his lips. He threw the rest of the apple towards the trees….As it passed over the line where the rug was it fizzled and disappeared.

"Are you sure I'm not dead? I would have thought I would at least have a headache and being kept alive by machines isn't anything new, but this has never happened before."

"Because I have never been able to join you before. I can't stay. When they wake you up I will have to go again."

"Well maybe I won't ever wake up."

Floyd put a hand on the side of Reid's face. "You better bleeding well wake up. I need you. No good to me asleep. Well no I take that back – you are very good to me when you are asleep, but I meant I need you awake too. I would miss your voice more than I would miss your arse."

"Why thank you Floyd. That is the most romantic thing you have ever said to me."

"I'm getting soft in my old age Spence."

"Floyd – get off." Spencer pushed Floyd away from him

"What's wrong?"

Spencer rolled onto his side and cried out in pain. "Oh it hurts – it hurts – Floyd."

"Babes?" But Floyd's voice was fading and when Reid looked over to him, he was going grainy and fuzzy and slowly fading.

"NO! Floyd don't leave me here."

-o-o-o-

Morgan arrived at the hospital to see how things were going. He waited outside the room and looked through the glass wall once again at Spencer on the machinery. As Hotch got up to leave the room something happened and not a good thing. The machinery set off it's alarm and as Hotch walked backwards out of the room trying not to get in the way but still wanting to know what was going on he saw them pulling down the sheet covering Spencer's very battered body and apply paddles to his thin broken chest.

Morgan put a hand on Hotch's arm.

"I don't think he is going to make it Derek." Hotch's face was deathly white.

"He's a fighter Hotch. He won't go without a damned good try to stay here."

They watched the staff apply the paddles again and saw Reid's back arch and leave the bed. Needles were being stuck in his arms and then in his chest. Someone put a tube in his side and they watched the blood drip out and splash onto the floor. Again the paddles and more needles. Faces in the room looked over at Hotch and Morgan and one of the faces ran over and adjusted the blinds to they couldn't see what was going on.

Aaron made a move to rush into the room but Derek took his arm. "Hotch – don't. Let them do their job."

"I don't want them to give up on him Morgan. I need to be there for him. I need to do something!"

"Stay calm. You are not going to be able to help him if you can't think straight."

"I know. I know."

The sudden movement at the door made Hotch jump back and Derek grabbed hold of his arm. A nurse came steaming out of the room. "What's going on?" Hotch called after her, but got no reply.

Another burst of activity as Reid along with his bed and the staff bolted out of the room and down the corridor.

"What the hell is going on?!" Aaron shouted this time. A nurse walked from the room and looked at the two men.

"He's going back down to surgery. Don't worry. We have everything under control. Just wait here."

Aaron looked at Derek. "Stay here. I'll back as soon as I can."

Morgan looked over at Aaron and nodded. He found a coffee machine and then a chair and sat and waited to see if Spencer would survive yet another surgery. He watched the cleaning staff go into Spencer's room to clean up the blood and mess on the floor and he watched them leave again. It was going to be a long wait and not one he thought was going to have a happy ending. When did anything with Reid ever have a happy ending?

-o-o-o-

Aaron stood outside Reid and Flanders small house. The lawn had been cut and the rubbish removed from the front. As he walked up the path towards the house he heard someone calling out.

"Excuse me!"

He turned to see the woman Floyd employed to dust and clear up.

"I'm a bit busy." Aaron was not in the mood for small talk.

It didn't stop her though. "I was just a bit worried. I haven't seen Spencer around. Is everything alight?"

"Oh – he's been in an accident. He wont be coming home for a while."

"Oh my god – is he alright? He has the luck of the devil that boy. What happened?"

"He was knocked down by a car. I need to pick some things up for him."

She nodded. "Well if there is anything I can do to help."

Hotch shook his head. "It nice of you to offer."

"Well tell him I sorted his lawn out for him and tell him I said hello."

Hotch smiled. Sorted the lawn. "Yes I will tell him." Though he doubted that his lawn was going to be one of his concerns.

Aaron continued to walk to the door. He readied himself for what was beyond. Took a deep breath and entered the dark hole Spencer had been living in."

He closed the door quietly behind him and stood in the stink. It had never been this bad when Floyd was here and he couldn't understand why Spencer had done this. He went to turn the light on, but they didn't work. As he walked under the light fitting he saw that the bulb hand been smashed. There was a scattering of glass on the floor under it. He walked down the hallway to the door which used to have his bedroom behind it, but now had Floyd's.

The door opened and surprisingly didn't smell as awful as the rest of the house did. He walked in and closed the door behind him and then quickly made his way to the closet. He opened the door and looked at the rows of clothes packed in there. Weird and wonderful and normal all mixed together. Some of it looked ancient and some was obviously new. Hotch pulled out a white shirt and pressed his face against it. He strong familiar smell of musk poured from it. He put the shirt over the back of a chair and took out one of his heavy brocade waistcoats. He didn't put this to his face as he could smell Floyd on it as he removed it from the hanger. He closed the closet door and went to the coat hooks hanging on the back of the main door. He removed the old dustcoat and with the shirt and waistcoat. He then took a couple of smokes from the side and picked up a box of matches. He then left the room again being careful to shut the door. On passing the kitchen he grabbed a carrier bag and stuffed the shirt and waistcoat in it and tied it securely shut. He just hoped this would work and he hoped he wasn't too late.

"Floyd – if you are there listening and watching as Reid thought you were – help him." He spoke into the dark dankness of the room and then started to leave the house.

-o-o-o-

Floyd wiggled his toes.

He blinked but couldn't see, but blinking was a good start. Actual movement beyond the toes and the occasional twitch of the fingers was a long way off. But then it happened. He wasn't expecting it but it came through loud and clear. Hotchner.

_I don't know how to help him._

_I can't come to him. _

_I am dead._

Hotch stood dead in his tracks.

'Floyd?'

_I can't help him Agent Aaron Hotchner. _

_I am a rotting corpse._

'Then how are you talking to me. Get you back here. He needs you.'

_I can't. I want to. I need to, but I am dead. I need to regenerate and it's taking a long time._

'Well if you don't get a move on it will be too late and I have a feeling you don't want that anymore than I do.'

_I don't want that._

'Then let me comfort him Floyd. Let me put a friendly arm around him without him being scared you will hit him. Let me help him.'

_This doesn't mean he is yours. _

_Go help him Hotchner._

And suddenly it was static again.

-o-o-o-

Derek was on his feet so fast he nearly passed out. The bed was being returned to the room.

Again Reid was hooked up to all sorts of things. He now had tubes in his chest and his eyes were taped shut. He looked like a child. Morgan was always stunned by how long he looked sometimes.

"Can I go in? What was wrong? Why has he got those things in him? Where's his doctor?"

"Yes you can go in. He is sleeping. He cant respond to you so don't worry."

Morgan nodded and walked in. He had only just sat down when Hotch arrived back again. He smiled to see Spencer back but the look on Morgan's face told him that things weren't going wonderfully.

"I'll go and find the doctor." Aaron put down the things he had with him and left the room.

The doctor was happy to talk to Hotch, he just wished the news could be happier. He described Reid's injuries. He showed him on charts and using the plastic body part models what had happened. How the first car had crushed Reid's ribs which had ripped into his lungs. He told him how his internal organs had been damaged and torn. He told him how Spencer had a huge bleed on the brain and he told him that he really couldn't predict the outcome of this. He had seen Reid in the hospital so many times with nasty head injuries. The brain can only take so much damage before it reaches the point that it closes down. Before that point there will be signs of damage. He told Hotch to expect Reid not to fully recover from this. This though – is worse case scenario. He was well aware of how he had recovered beyond all odds in the past and where is his friend Flanders?

Aaron went back to the room.

"You better go Derek. I'm on leave. You have work to go to in the morning."

Derek nodded and stood up. "What did the doctor say?"

Aaron looked at the bed. "It doesn't matter Morgan. I am going to prove him wrong."

Hotch picked up the bag and walked over to Spencer. He ran a finger slowly over the back of his right hand. "It's OK Spencer. I spoke to Floyd he said I can help but you need to help too."

Obviously there was no reply.

"I brought something with me I thought you might like."

He pulled the cotton shirt out of the bag and lifted Spencer's hand and scrunched up the shirt and put it on the bed. He then lay Reid's hand on top of it. He stood and looked. Still no reaction, but he wasn't expecting anything this soon. He put his hand over the back of Reid's and guided his fingers into the soft folds of cotton. He twisted some of it around his fingers so he was holding it in his non responsive hand and then stood back a bit.

"I have something else too, but Spencer I need to know you are in there still. I need you to prove these doctors wrong so we are going to work on this together."

Now he removed the waistcoat and laid it over Reid's chest. He walked around to the other side of the bed and picked up Spencer's hand and rested it on the heavy fabric. They smell was very strong. The rich heady musky smell of Floyd.

Hotch made sure that the door was shut and then pulled out a smoke and the box of matches. "You know Spencer doing this will make me very ill, so I expect you to be at least a bit grateful."

He wiped a stray hair off his face and then lit up making sure the smoke went over Reid so he could smell and feel what he needed to.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15 Silence

Chapter 15

Silence

_And then he put on his woolly vest and all was good in the world again: - Angela_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He felt ill.

He sat on the chair in the smoke filled room with his head spinning and his eyes watering. He had been careful not to inhale the vile smoke but it still permeated his skin and hair and everything. A yellow smoke full of god only knew what chemicals and so far still nothing from Spencer. Hotch just hoped he wouldn't have to chain smoke these things to let through to Reid.

By the morning most of the smoke had gone and Aaron had been sick a few times, but Reid lay on the bed doing nothing. Aaron looked at the tube down his throat and wondered if he could breathe on his own. He knew that his lungs were not in a good way and the machinery was being gentle. Hotch stood up and walked over to Reid.

"Good morning Spencer." He bent down and gave him a small light kiss on the forehead. Hotch closed his eyes tightly and ran a finger over Spencer's dry lips. "We would all love it if you woke up today Spencer – but I understand if you're not ready yet, but I'm here for you and we're all rooting for you. I know you can pull through this. Floyd knows you can. So when you're ready….."

Hotch went and sat down again.

It was about an hour later when a nurse walked in and put a tray on Hotch's lap. "Breakfast for you Aaron." She said quietly. "Has he had a good night?"

Hotch shrugged. "He is still sleeping if that's what you mean. I don't know if that's good or not." The nurse put a hand on Hotch's shoulder and squeezed. "Eat your cornflakes. Sitting around waiting for someone if very tiring. Maybe you could read to him. It passes the time for both of you."

Aaron looked down at the food and then up at the nurse. "I don't know if I want it to pass quickly though. I don't want to hurry up to the end."

"But the ending could be good. I'll be back soon." She turned and left the room.

Aaron looked down at the food again. This really was the last thing he wanted to do now, but the nurse had been right, he would need his strength to get him through however many days it would take. Last time this happened…not too long ago he didn't think he would ever wake. Floyd had helped. He was going to have to try to replace Floyd in a very simplistic way.

"Excuse me….What are you doing?"

There were two nurses now. One female and one male.

"He needs a wash. I'm just going to wash him and try to get his hair clean."

Hotch put the tray down and walked over to the bed. "No – don't wash him."

"He needs cleaning up. There is still blood in his hair." Aaron looked at the dressing over the side of Reid's head. They must've shaved it.

"No…he wouldn't want you to. He is very averse to – uh – washing in general. Brush his hair and wash his face and hands, but not the rest, and leave his hair be."

The kind nurse looked at Hotch. "Aaron – he smells."

"I know – and I am hoping it will help him, so please don't. And leave those things." The male nurse was about to move the waistcoat. "They belong to his partner. They need to stay there."

-o-o-o-

Every few days Aaron replaced the clothing. He had smoked all the smokes he could find and still there was nothing from Reid. Gradually as the days went by tubes and monitors were removed. Hotch wasn't sure if this was good or bad yet. He still had a tube down his throat and was still on a heart monitor. However he now had tubes stuck in different places as they tube fed him and then removed waste.

Not for the first time and he thought not for the last he went to the relatives room in the middle of the night and lay down on one of the squishy couches and cried.

They were just waiting and Hotch knew they were waiting and he was too. He wondered if he should contact Reid's mother somehow. Spencer had stopped writing to her and he never visited but maybe it was only right to let her say goodbye. If she even remember who Spencer was. There was also the matter of his leave being over. He had to get back to work. He wanted to get back to work, but he couldn't leave Spencer in this place alone. He knew how much he hated hospitals.

He was sitting with his eyes closed nursing a mug of coffee in the relatives room when the doctor came in to talk to him. He spoke in soft tones knowing what he was going to say would hurt this man who tried to stay so strong and tried so hard to get his friend to come back to them.

"He has healed well." The doctor said as he sat down next to Hotch.

"Physically yes."

"It was partly that which I wanted to talk to you about."

Hotch looked over at the doctor not knowing what was coming next. "I'm listening."

"I have these." He handed over a couple of pamphlets. "I think it's time Spencer moved on. There is nothing more we can do for him here."

Aaron looked down at the things in his hands and blinked.

"A hospice?"

"They can look after him and it's a less sterile environment. Much more restful for him than a hospital."

"You send people to these places to die." Aaron just looked down at the things in his hand.

The doctor looked sad. "No – not at all. Many people spend short amounts of time there. People who are sick and being looked after at home; they will go there to give the family a rest or to allow the family to take a holiday. It's very good for the patient to experience different environments. I am sure you are very bored sitting here everyday. Imagine how much worse it must be for Spencer."

"But he won't be going there to give the family a rest. He will be going there to die."

The doctor put a hand on Aaron's arm. "Maybe you need to visit them and talk to the other residents. It might ease your mind about it."

Aaron nodded slowly. "Later."

-o-o-o-

He wanted to talk this over with someone and so he sat down with Spencer and not knowing if he could hear told him that it might be nice to go somewhere else for a while.

"Different smells and voices. Not so many hospital smells and sounds. The chance to get some real sun on your face. Sounds good doesn't it?" Hotch could hardly say the words. "I will still be there all the time, but it will be more like living in a holiday hotel then a hospital, and any medical needs are catered for."

Aaron got up and left the room. He returned to the relatives' room and just let the tears fall. He had been there for about half an hour when the door opened and a familiar face poked her head in.

"Sir – I was looking for you. What's happened?" Garcia walked over – alarmed to see the anguish on Hotch's face.

Aaron shook his head. "Just this." He handed the pamphlets to Garcia. "Actually it would be nice to talk this through with you."

"A hospice." Was all she said.

"I think they need his bed. I need to decide for him."

"Sir – I know these places have a somewhat bleak name for themselves but maybe we should go and look around them together. Find one Spencer would like."

"It feels like the end Garcia. It feels like I am giving up on him."

She sat down next to Aaron. "Sir – it's not like that at all. He will be more comfortable in this sort of place. They know how to look after people like Spencer – they are trained specifically to do that."

"Palliative care."

"Garcia looked down at her hands. Not necessarily. He might still get better. These are very early days still. He could be like that for months. Years and still wake up and be fine."

"So you think he should be moved to one of these places?"

Garcia put her hand on Hotch's arm. "I can't tell you what to do, but they are wonderful places."

-o-o-o-

He pulled himself up onto his hands and knees. It hurt. Every inch of his body was screaming in agony, but Spencer needed him. He wondered if giving Hotch permission to care for him and 'touch' him had been the right thing to say – think – whatever it was and now he needed to go and help, but first he had to learn how to walk again and his vision seemed very blurred and his feet weren't one hundred percent operational but this would do for now. All he had to work out now was how to get out of this hole he had fallen into.

Floyd sat at the bottom and pulled his knees in tight. He sat much like he had seen Reid sit so many times and wrapped his broken arms and smashed fingers around his legs and rested his almost face on his knees.

He didn't know how long he sat there for, but it rained on him and then the sun shone down. Any creatures that dared to come near him died if they got within arms reach. It got cold, but he didn't feel it and it got warm and muggy and he didn't feel that either. Most of the time he was in a damp dark split in the ground.

Finally he opened his eyes and looked around again. The water which had collected on the ground had turned to ice. He looked at his toes resting on the hard frozen ground and curled his toes up. Carefully he put his hands to his face. It wasn't fully healed yet, but good enough for now. He ran a tongue first over his grimy teeth and then over his cracked dried up lips. His fingernails were long and claw like as where his toe nails. Floyd's hair hung down his back to his shoulder blades. He had no idea how long he had been here, but it was the longest he had been away from Spencer since he first saw him as a kid.

Two hands on the rock face and he was climbing up out of his grave. Hand over hand – his nails pushing into the rock as he dragged his battered still not fully recovered body up and onto the forest floor.

It had been snowing and he had no idea where he was and so he just lay down and continued to heal for a while.

-o-o-o-

He was sitting in a wheelchair next to the open door looking over the gardens.

He was breathing on his own and he had his eyes open, but that was about all. Every day Hotch came to visit. He never failed unless he was called away, and on those occasions Garcia covered his duty for him.

She sat now on a chair next to Spencer talking about nothing and everything. Her voice was quiet and though she tried to sound up beat and happy the sadness in her voice was unmistakable. She thought he would have reacted in some way at some point but there didn't seem to be anything there. He was strapped into the chair with his head resting back. Garcia had been very cross when she had visited one day and he had been left all morning in his chair just stuck in the middle of the room his head down and drooling. She had shouted at the staff and she had cried and taken her shoes off and thrown them at the wall.

"This man is a genius – he has three Phd's and you leave him like that?! How could you." A burst of tears for her friend. Not someone she felt obliged to help because she once worked with him but a friend because she liked his quirky ways.

He was moved to another establishment before nightfall. Garcia liked this place. It had huge grounds and trees which would blossom in the spring. If he was still here in the spring – he might be better………….

"And so then we all went out for a drink and I got a bit tipsy which is why I fell over in the street in front of the guys coming out of church." She reached over and held his hand. "You would have laughed – and when you get out of this place I will do an action reply just for you." She squeezed gently.

A sudden breeze blew into the room and knocked over a row of cards on the shelf. One for each week he had been here. _'Get Well Soon – love Emily.'_

It was her way of coping. Emily seemed so sad now. Everyone seemed sad and frustrated. Aaron blamed himself for it. Spencer was in his care when it happened. There was no one else to blame. He hadn't been shot or attacked or knifed or beaten – he had walked in front of a moving car. It was an accident. No one to blame. No one to point a finger at and this made it worse. He couldn't even blame Floyd for this and so he blamed him self.

Morgan put a chunk of blame on his shoulders. He should have been there for him – more understanding. It was obvious Spencer had had some kind of breakdown, and he knew about Reid's fears on the mental health issues. He should have talked to him properly and not been so judgmental.

Rossi had no big feelings over it. He knew Reid – yes and the younger man was obviously obsessed by him. He almost expected Reid to be on his hands and knees behind him sometimes kissing the ground he had just walked over. In his view no one was to blame. Reid made life choices.

Prentiss closed down all feelings. She hibernated her emotions when it came to love. She never understood Reid but it wasn't really him she was missing.

She just hoped Floyd would hurry on back and either kill or cure this vile situation.

-o-o-o-

The snow had melted and he was crawling in the night time shadows towards home. His internal compass had kicked in again but at the cost of his balance for now. He wasn't going to give up. He slid and slimed and sighed his way through the undergrowth and when it got light he'd curl up somewhere safe and close down for a while. A bit more healing. A bit better each morning and a bit closer to Spencer.

One morning he was awoken by the sound of music. He looked carefully from where he was. A jogger. He must be getting closer. This was good. He watched the man for a while and licked his lips. How long since he last had something good for lunch? He didn't know if it was days or weeks. Slowly he crawled along in the early morning shadows following the man and his music. He ran his long sharp fingernails over his teeth and wipe the drool of excitement off his chin. His mouth was watering so much with the anticipation that it was making his bare chest wet and slippery.

Twenty feet behind him and the shadows were becoming less as the sun got higher in the sky and the tree cover became lighter.

Ten feet and Floyd could smell the sweat and the pheromones oozing out of the man. Floyd bounded forwards a bit harder and faster.

Five feet behind him and Floyd was out of the shadows and on the path directly behind him. He could feel the steady thump of the man's heart vibrating through the ground under his fingertips.

The man didn't even know it had happened. One minute he was alive less than a second later he had stopped existing – his neck cleanly snapped. Floyd dragged him off the path and back into the shadows. He stripped him first and then sat on his haunches just looking at the naked man in front of him. Floyd ran his fingers over the skin and then slid over him to straddle the man across the hips. He leaned in and kissed the dead cooling mouth and took in the unique scent this person carried. Floyd wanted to savour his kill. He licked at it and kissed it moving down the chest with his fingers and mouth.

He played with him for a couple of hours and when he was done he began to pull chunks of flesh off and sat back and enjoyed his first kill in too long.

The clothes were a plain white Tshirt and calf lightweight black jogging pants. The trainers didn't fit and anyway Floyd's feet needed to feel the forest below them for a while longer. He left the man where he could be taken by the animals.

A small snort of laughter from Floyd. "Well the other animals anyway." He muttered to himself.

He moved out to the pathway and slowly walked down it in the direction the jogger had come from. He tried to wipe the blood off his face and he tried to enjoy being able to walk, but the sun was too bright. Floyd moved back off the path and crawled into the undergrowth to continue his rest.

He curled his toes up as he lay down.

_I'm on my way babes. Hang on in there._

-o-o-o-

He heard the voice in his head. Floyd was coming to get him. He wanted to jump up and down and shout with joy. Floyd would make this all better.

Garcia was sitting on the grass next to the chair today. It was sunny and she had been nattering on about a bird sitting on a nest she had seen. At first she thought it was her imagination. She stopped talking and looked up at Spencer's face and then back down at his feet and there is was again.

"Spence? Oh my god Spencer?!" She jumped up off the grass and shouted for help "Quickly someone over here!"

The staff were there in a blink. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"His feet. He moved his toes!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Look! He did it again!"

"Can we try to stay calm please Penelope?" The staff were used to Garcia's over excited outbursts. The nurse stood in front of Reid and held onto both of his hands. "Spencer – I need you to respond to me in some way. Squeeze my hand or move your toes again. Can you do that for me?" And it was almost imperceptible. But the nurse felt his right hand move slightly. "Well done! Can you move your toes for me again?" And there is was. He curled and uncurled his toes.

* * *


	16. Chapter 16 Moving

Chapter 16

Moving

_Golden brown, texture like sun  
Lays me down, with my mind she runs  
Throughout the night  
No need to fight  
Never a frown, with golden brown: - The Stranglers/ golden brown_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Aaron stood in the doctor's office and listened.

"This by no way means that he is going to make a full recovery. This might be the only thing he manages to do. I really don't want you to raise your hopes. There is also the other matter I needed to talk to you about."

Hotch walked over to the window and looked out over the grounds. "What other matter?"

"Well the board have had a long discussion on this – It's not a move we like to take but in the case of Spencer I think it would be the right one."

Aaron turned to look at the doctor. "What are you talking about?"

"Well Spencer's condition isn't deteriorating - in fact though he has remained stable for all the time he has been here, he is now showing these signs of a slight recovery."

"This is good though. Surely this is what we want?"

"Obviously – yes – it's wonderful, but now you have to ask yourself if this is the best place for him." The doctor handed Hotch some pamphlets. Always the pamphlets. Why can't they just come out and say what they mean. He looked down at the writing. "They are private places, but I think probably better for Spencer's needs."

"Because he isn't likely to die within the year?"

"I didn't say that. These are residential homes. I have chosen to show you these because they have an excellent record for guests with head injuries."

"He likes it here." Hotch's voice was low and whispered. "These places – I don't know if I can send him somewhere like this."

"I'm really sorry. I took the liberty of booking Dr Reid into this one." He tapped the paper Hotch had in his hand. "You obviously can cancel, but the transfer has to be made over the next two days. I will be sorry to see him go."

"I am sure you will be. Thank you. I will call them and make arrangements."

-o-o-o-

As they packed up the few things Reid had into boxes and talked in quiet tones trying to explain why he was being moved again. "It's good news – you are getting better." -- Floyd walked slowly. He walked through the night until he reached a small clearing with a dirt road leading off it. A car was parked under the trees. He walked to the car and ran his fingers over the lock. There was a small click as the locks released and Floyd was able to pull open the door. He slid into the drivers seat and just sat looking out over the forest he had just walked from. He then adjusted the mirror so he could see his face.

His face looked as though it had been dipped in white wax and left to dry until it split and cracked. He looked down at his hands.

Floyd ran his fingers with the skin splitting on the knuckles over his face. "Getting there. Almost ready." He picked at a bit of loose skin and tore it off in a strip down the side of this face. Under the white waxy looking skin his face had was fresh pink flesh. "I will sort this when I get home." He muttered to himself.

Lack of car keys didn't hinder him. He started the old compact car and headed down the track. The car lights cut through the darkness and made Floyd squint. His eyes hurt. They hurt a lot. And these bright lights didn't help.

-o-o-o-

Spencer was taken by a special ambulance to his new home. Hotch wanted to take him back to his house and care for him, but he knew that wasn't possible. There was too much which could go wrong too easily.

"They will look after him Garcia." He looked at her tear stained face.

"I know, but again, if just feels like we are giving up. I hate this so much. He will be surrounded by people who are – are."

"I understand Penelope, but at least these people aren't dying."

"Sir, I hate to say this, but most of them are already dead." She put a hand on her chest. "On the inside – in here they are dead. I don't want that happening to Spencer – even if he never does more than move his fingers – he can communicate now. I am just so scared he will wake up and forget how to do it."

And she burst into tears again.

Hotch put a hand on her shoulder. "I feel the same. I might not be showing it, but this is killing me too."

The set up was very different here. It was good, but very different to where he had been. They had locks on the doors and bars at the windows. The bedroom doors had little windows and there were security cameras everywhere. Hotch felt it was more like a low security prison full of people talking to themselves and sitting pissing their pants. He wanted to walk straight out again, but he had nowhere to take Reid. This was it.

Reid's room was a nice pale green. It was clean and very comfortable, but it wasn't home. It was however where Spencer would have to stay at least until Hotch could sort something better out for him.

Aaron and Pen stayed with him until he was sleeping. They sat in his room and Pen brushed his hair and Hotch made sure they knew they weren't to wash it or him. Face and hands only. And obviously they had to keep clean the places he had tubes inserted.

"I will stay the night Pen. You go home and rest. Come back tomorrow."

"I will do Sir. Sleep well." She turned to go before she burst into tears again.

"And Penelope?" She stopped and nodded. "Please when we are here – call me Aaron. I think it would feel friendlier to Spencer."

She half turned to look at Hotch. "That won't be easy, but I will do my best. Good night Aaron – goodnight Spence." And she turned and left.

The arrangements here were different. They weren't so keen on people staying over.

"It's not our policy to allow guests to stay the night."

"Well I'm not leaving him here alone. I have been with him nearly every night since the accident. I'm not changing now. He needs me at least this first night to be with him."

"It's not convenient."

"Well I'm not going – I'm sorry – He has been moved here without his consent and I will stay to make sure he is alright."

"I will have to get you to sign something then. Come with me."

Hotch looked at the bed with Spencer laying in it looking grey and ill and shook his head. "Bring the paperwork here. I just said, I'm not leaving him."

Again a sigh and the nurse left them alone. Aaron sat holding Spencer's hand until the nurse returned. Aaron filled in the boxes and asked for them to be left alone. The door was closed and Hotch slid the shutter across the little window in the door.

"I'm so sorry Spencer. I don't know what I was thinking bringing you here. Just this one night and I will get you moved." He sat on the edge of the bed. "This place has excellent records of health and recovery, but I guess it failed to mention this side of it." Hotch stood again and looked down at Reid. This was something he had wanted to do many times back at the Hospice but never felt free to do it. Reid felt too fragile and too close to death and Aaron very selfishly didn't want to wake up with a dead man in his arms. He rolled Spencer over onto his side and got him comfortable and then removed his jacket and tie and kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed behind him. He wrapped an arm around Spencer and ran a finger over the back of his dirty neck. It felt like he was saying good bye and before he could control it he was crying again as he buried his face into the back of Reid's neck and held him tightly.

-o-o-o-

He stopped the car a few streets away and began to walk home in the shadows. Sometimes he went onto all fours and ran and other times he pulled himself up and walked slowly and painfully. Eventually he was on his street. He stood at the end and looked at the porch lights twinkling and the cars sitting on neat little driveways.

"How the hell did I think we would ever find a place here? What the fuck was I thinking? I will look for somewhere else. I will find something nice but this is a crock of shit."

He reached his own front lawn and lowered himself down to his knees and stayed looking at the dark empty house. He needed to get in there. There was so much he needed to do, but somehow the place had a feeling of death about it. He crawled forwards and up the few steps of the porch and a quick push on the door let him back into his home.

"Shit Spence – did you fire the cleaning lady?" He pulled himself to his feet and looked around in the gloom and let out a big sigh. "I'm going to be cleaning for a while I think."

He walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Spots of blood caught Floyd's eye. They stood out on the bathroom tiles – but the shower and tub didn't look like they had been used in a while. There was a thin layer of dust over the surfaces. Floyd turned on the hot water for the shower and was mildly surprised when it actually was hot. He pulled off his clothing and stepped under the scalding hot water.

Floyd started on his face. Pulling off more of the waxy layer. It fell into the hot water gathering around his feet as he dug his fingernails behind the protective layer and tore it away. As he made his way down his neck and across his shoulders he could see the fresh raw new skin underneath. Blood now joined the melting strips and hissed and bubbled its way down the drain. He thought this would probably be what it felt like for a person to be covered in burns. It was agony but he needed to hurry the process up. After a good few hours under the shower he stepped out. Most of the layer had gone now but there were places on his back he hadn't been able to reach.

He now filled the tub with warm soapy water and slid himself into it. With a sigh he closed his eyes and lay back and again closed down for a little bit longer.

-o-o-o-

The following morning was taken up with Hotch getting very cross with the staff.

"We know you are worried about your friend but that does not give you the right to treat this establishment as a doss house."

"Don't worry. He wont be staying here another night and if you even think of going near him with soap and water I will have you in court so fast your feet wont touch the ground."

He was about to say more when the cell phone in his jacket pocket started to ring. He snatched the phone out of his pocket and put it to his ear under the scowl of the nursing staff.

"Hotchner." A pause. His fingers went white around the phone. "When?" Listening. "I had to turn my phone off." A pause. "Yes – yes thank you for letting me know." He snapped the phone shut. Looked at it for a while then opened it.

"You really shouldn't use that in here." He ignored her and pressed speed dial.

"Morgan – Flanders is back. Go to the house and check it out, I don't want to leave Reid."

He put the phone away and walked back to Reid's room. He had left them to do what needed to be done. Fed and watered…tubes cleaned and bags exchanged. Reid was now sitting strapped into his high tech chair. It was like looking after a six foot one baby. Aaron picked up tissue and wiped it gently across Spencer's slightly parted lips.

"Good morning Spencer. The sun is shining again. Thought it might be nice to listen to some music today." _'sing nursery rhymes play with shape sorter.'_

Aaron hadn't felt this useless and cross about all of this in a long time. He took Reid down to what they liked to call the music room. There were other 'guests' standing around. Some were swaying and some just standing doing nothing and a couple singing. Hotch closed his eyes and tried to block it all out. "This is wrong Reid. I'm not putting you through this."

He was about to move Spencer out of this hell hole of a room when a staff member put his hand over Hotch's. "We have him now. Go and rest." And suddenly Reid was being taken away from him. "If you don't mind this works better when the family aren't around." And he was being led back out of the room and the door was shut and Hotch was standing looking at the wrong side of the door.

-o-o-o-

Derek pulled up in his SUV and sat for a while looking at the house. It didn't look any different to all the other times he had sat here and just looked. Willing it to all go away and for someone to turn on the lights and invite him in.

He jumped out and closed the car door carefully. He checked his gun then pulled a flak vest out of the back of the car. He had no idea if Floyd was in there or what mood he would be in if he suddenly walked in on him. He didn't knock. The door opened when Morgan pushed it. He stood for a while blinking back the intense smell which made his eyes water. A different smell than before. A Closer smell…something sickly and cloying.

Derek closed the door and walked slowly across the lounge. He pulled his gun and pointed it towards the floor walking carefully in the half light. The bathroom door was open and there was a steady 'drip drip' of water. He walked in carefully. The room was empty but someone or something had definitely been here. There was a thick grey slime in the bottom of the bath and blood and strips of something in the shower. He looked but didn't touch.

He looked down the hallway to the door at the end. It was slightly open. Again he walked carefully and quietly. He put the palm of his hand on the door and pushed it open.

Floyd was laying on his side on the filthy bed. He appeared to be naked and sleeping.

Morgan took a step closer. "Flanders." Nothing. "Floyd. Wake up man."

"I'm not sleeping. Go away Agent Derek Morgan."

"Where the hell have you been?! Get up now. You are needed." Another step closer and he picked a bathrobe up off the floor and threw it at Floyd.

Floyd grabbed hold of the robe and dragged it across himself and then rolled over onto his back. "I'm not going anywhere yet."

Derek holstered the gun. "What the hell happened?"

"You are far too basic to understand. Leave me alone."

"Basic. Are you aware of what is going on? While you were off on your vacation for months. Do you know what has happened to Reid? Do you care?"

Floyd sat up. "No I don't know. I was on vacation in the fucking Caribbean. So get the fuck out of my room and my house and my life."

"As much as I hate to admit this and as much as I loath every last inch of you – I have to say - get up Reid needs you now. Not tomorrow. There might not be a tomorrow for him."

Floyd started to move off the bed and Morgan took a step back, his hand moving towards his gun.

"What happened? We were playing in the woods…and something got me. I don't know what happened after that."

"Something got you. How convenient."

"What the hell happened. He was fine when I last saw him. You need to explain it to me Derek I'm not a fucking mind reader. Well actually I am, but that's not really what I mean. Where is he?"

"He is strapped to a wheelchair in a residential home for adults with head injuries. He can't talk or eat or even piss without help."

"What happened!" Floyd was stumbling to the chest of drawers. Morgan could see how his skin looked red and raw.

"He walked in front of a moving car."

"He did? What the fuck did he do that for?"

"Just get dressed."

Floyd pulled out a black shirt and some black jeans. Morgan could see how he was wincing as he pulled the clothing on over his peeling skin.

"Floyd, what happened to you? We thought you would have been back months ago. He needed you."

"What he needed was to let the cleaner in occasionally. This place is a tip. I am thinking of moving again. Start over. I will see what Spencer says."

A raised eyebrow.

"You don't understand do you? Spencer isn't going to say anything. He hasn't moved more than his toes and twitched the fingers on his right hand in months. They are tube feeding him Floyd, and through all this Hotch has never left his side."

"Oh? And has he been giving Spencer special comfort?"

"Just get out and in the car. Now."

"One second." He opened a draw and pulled out his lighter and a length of ribbon. He stuffed them into his pockets and nodded. "I just think you need to know that my healing abilities in relation to assisting Spencer are going to be limited. I am not fully healed myself."

"Just get in the car you sonofabitch and stop yacking at me."

* * *


	17. Chapter 17 Bath Time

Chapter 17

Bath Time

_Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven: - __Tryon Edwards _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Aaron had been asked to leave. They didn't think his constant surveillance of Spencer was going to help him or the other guests.

"Just let him settle in his new home."

"This is not his new home. I will have him moved out of here as soon as I find somewhere else."

"I am sorry, but you can't do that. I realise you are his friend and you are looking after his interests but only his next of kin can request a transfer and as far as I know you are not Mr Franks."

And so he was sitting outside in the sunshine and wishing for the first time in his life that he smoked or had a hip flask of gin on him. He recognised Morgan's car and lethargically went over to meet him. Morgan didn't look happy. Floyd looked a bit pissed off too. It was Floyd who was first out of the car and Hotch could see that something wasn't quite right. He was leaning on the side of the car taking in deep breaths and had the back of his hand pressed to his nose.

Morgan slid out of his side of the car and looked at Hotch. "His nose." Was all he said but now Hotch could see specks of blood up the side of Morgan's face and now looking back at the car he could see the passenger side window was dripping red.

Hotch walked over to Flanders but didn't touch him. He looked him up and down and took in the shirt and jeans and bare feet. "You couldn't find boots?"

"Just show me where he is. I'm here now; it doesn't mean I have to have a friendly morning coffee and croissant with you."

Hotch scowled. "I have had to go on long term leave to look after him Flanders, so keep your smart mouth for the staff in there. This way." He walked off leaving them to follow.

"Hotch wait up." Morgan called. When Aaron turned he saw Floyd on his hands and knees bleeding again from his nose. He walked back to him and grabbed him by the back of the shirt pulling him to his feet.

"Get up and get your ass into that hell hole and sort Spencer out. Now."

Floyd slapped his hands away from him. "Don't touch me Agent Aaron Hotchner. Keep your hands for your own pleasure." He started a slow walk to the stairs leading to the front entrance.

The three men entered reception together. A cheery voice spoke from behind a receptionist desk. "Good morning, can I help you?"

Floyd raised an eyebrow. "Yes – I need tissues and I need to see uh…Spencer Reid."

The pale skinned young woman looked at the blood steadily dripping from his nose and pulled out a box of tissues. "Here sir, keep them. Do you think you should go to hospital with that? Spencer Reid…Oh…it says here only his next of kin. Sorry."

Floyd pulled out a wad of tissues and pressed them to his nose. "Floyd Flanders Franks – next of kin."

"I see and do you have your ID with you sir?"

Floyd nodded. "Yes darling I do…" he pointed to Hotch and Morgan. "SSA Aaron Hotchner and Special Agent Derek Morgan. I think they will vouch for my identity unless you want to argue with the Feds but my advise is that you give me one of your silly clip on badges and let me see him."

He was using his mouth in a very familiar fashion but Hotch could see something wasn't quite right by the way he was leaning on the desk and not standing in his familiar odd way which looked like he was always ready to pounce.

Hotch looked at Morgan who was also watching Floyd. "What happened to him? Did he tell you where he has been?"

"I have no idea, and no, he hasn't said – but I don't think he has been having fun."

"Well that's something to almost smile about – I would be happy if it didn't mean Reid had been put through what he had because of his absence."

Floyd turned to them waving a bit of plastic on a clip. "I'm going on up. You can join me if you want."

Hotch nodded. "I would love to but I think you need to do this alone. We can wait in the reception area up there." Floyd nodded.

The three of them got in the elevator and Hotch pushed the floor button. "So – my profiler boys, how's it been? Catch any serial killers recently."

Morgan didn't speak. He was too prepared to punch Floyd on the nose.

Hotch looked at Floyd but also said nothing. There really didn't seem to be anything worth saying right now. This man had been gone for months and now he was back and in control of Spencer again. If he didn't think Spencer needed him so much he would beat him to a pulp right here.

The elevator pinged and the door slid open.

"Good luck Flanders." Hotch muttered. "And be nice."

Hotch and Morgan walked to the chairs in the light and airy reception room and Floyd rang the bell and held up his pass.

The doors opened and let him into a slightly less airy slightly less bright room. There were a scattering of people standing around doing not much and he could hear the sound of a television somewhere and the tap tap of a game of ping pong. A member of staff walked over with a curious look on her face, taking in the person in front of her, who seemed to be swaying slightly.

"Can I help you?"

He showed her the pass. "I am here to see Spencer Reid."

"Oh, he's not permitted visitors at the moment. This is his settling in period and we find that the guests need to settle before they see anyone."

Floyd rubbed at his nose and took more tissues from the box and held it in place. "Lady – I have come a long way and I need to see him now, so if you stop pissing me around and just show me where he is I will be out of your way and we will both be happy."

"I have already sent one gentleman away today and I explained it all to him. Only his next of kin."

Floyd nodded. "I am his next of kin. Now show me where he is."

"I need to check up on this first. One moment."

Floyd watched her walk over to the little glass security room and start to fiddle on the computer. He took the chance to walk away and look for Reid.

"Can I help you? You look a bit lost." An orderly this time.

"Spencer Reid. I need to see him now."

"Oh our new guest. Yes he's over here."

The orderly stopped and smiled at Floyd. "Would you like a drink? A coffee?"

A distracted nod but his full attention was on the thing sitting with his head down drooling slightly from the most beautiful mouth Floyd had ever seen. They were the only thing recognisable.

He walked slowly to him and knelt on the floor in front of the ultra expensive wheelchair Hotch had re-mortgaged his home to get him. He pulled out a tissue and wiped it across Spencer's mouth.

"Hey babes." He put two fingers under Spencer's chin and lifted his head. "Shit Spence. How did it all come to this?" He ran his thumb over Spencer's lips. "Are you there?" Floyd ran a finger down the side of Reid's face. "I would have been with you if I could. You know that don't you?

Floyd took Spencer's hands in his and squeezed them tightly. "I'm here now. Not going anywhere. I will get Hotchner on the case and get you moved from this shit hole, but I think we need to both have a bath first. Thanks for saving yourself for me babes."

A cough behind him made Floyd turn his head to look but he kept a tight grip on Reid's hands. "Your coffee. Anything else?"

"He needs a bath."

"We were under strict orders not to."

"Yes – they were my orders. Now I am here I can bathe him, so sort that for me and lip balm. He likes to use lip balm, those lips get so dry."

"I will see what I can sort for you."

Floyd watched the guy move away and then turned back to Spencer. "So how does a nice soak in the tub sound to you? And maybe a massage? I'll get your hair clean. You will feel like a whole new person." He looked up at the blank eyes and the face which was too thin and he wanted to rip out the heart of the bitch who ran him down.

"Lip balm sir." The voice from behind him again. "Services are arranging a bath. Spencer here will have to wait until there is someone available to assist."

He took the lip balm. "I will bathe him."

"I'm sorry, but that might be looked upon as inappropriate. A member of staff will have to do that. We don't know who Spencer would feel about you doing that. It's always seen as far better for someone not emotionally attached to do things like bathing."

"OK. So I can screw him and give him the best blow jobs on the planet, but I'm not allowed to wash him?"

The orderly looked down at Floyd and the way he was holding Spencer's hands and nodded. "I will sort it for you."

They didn't like it, but they didn't feel like arguing with the man with the long hair and foul mouth. They watched with wide eyes as Floyd stripped naked and lowered himself into the warm water. They were going to use a hoist to manoeuvre Spencer into the water, but Floyd had insisted using lots of words with only four letters in them that they needed to get the Fed called Hotchner in here now to help out – or he would sue their starched white arses for total disregard of human rights.

"Has he not been degraded and humiliated enough by you? Can't you just let things be nice for him…just for once?"

And so it was Hotchner who was carefully lowering Reid into the water with Floyd. "Just don't you hurt him." Hotch muttered to Floyd.

"Last thing on my mind. Well no – not the last thing, but it's pretty low down on my list, but then my list isn't very long."

Hotch just walked away. "Call me when you need me." He walked through the door and closed it gently.

Floyd had wrapped his arms around Spencer and pulled him close. Reid's head was tipped back slightly and resting on Floyd's chest. "So babes – I am going to wash your hair. It's getting long you know. Mine did too. It's gotten long." He poured water over Spencer's hair. "Close your eyes Spence. I don't want you getting soap in them." He watched as very slowly Spencer's eyes closed. "Well done. See – getting better already. I will have you singing Evita before we have finished – or at least whistling The William Tell Overture." He gently rubbed the soap into his hair.

He washed the soap out of Reid's hair and gently kissed his forehead. "Going to soap you down now and then give you a massage. You need to get down the gym babes, your muscle tone has decreased. Actually that's something we can do together when you are out of here. I will get you down there working out every night. It's good for mind and body – I thing the soul needs a bit more than looking at sweaty blokes in the steam room though. That I feel is counter productive right now. I need you just for me." He ran his hands over the soapy chest and down to his abdomen. He felt the stoma and it made him want to scream. But at least there were no food arguments going on.

There still didn't seem to much a response from Reid except for closing his eyes when asked and now Floyd's hand moved down. "When were you last able to give yourself a hand job babes? Want to borrow my hand? Can't quite reach with my mouth from here, but I can arrange that for later." He moved one hand over Spencer and the other he touched Reid's face and neck and shoulders and chest and then back to his shoulders and down his arms. Touching gently with one hand and giving a not very soothing massage with the other.

-o-o-o-

Once washed and dried and re-clothed and tubed up Floyd stood with Aaron and watched Reid being strapped back into the chair. "I need to get him out of that damned thing."

"I was hoping he would respond to you." Hotch slid hands into his pockets.

"He did."

Aaron turned to Floyd. "What? What did he do?"

"He closed his eyes when I asked him to, and let me give him a hand job. He doesn't seem to have a problem reacting there."

Hotch shook his head. "How could you do that to him? You've been back ten minutes and you are still dragging him down to your level."

"Oh believe me Hotchner it will take a lot more then a warm bath and a hand job to get him down to my level. I'm working on it though, but we need him out of that chair – which I appreciate and will fully refund you on."

"I don't want your money Flanders. I want you to show some manners and respect for someone with a horrific head injury."

Floyd looked from Aaron to Spencer and back again. "This has nothing to do with the head injury. This is something different all together – and I will fix it. Just give me time. I can't do anything yet, I am still healing." He walked over to Spencer and rubbed at the towel he had wrapped around his head. "But in the meantime I can be here to comfort and you know….help him feel less of a damned prisoner in that head of his."

"I will start looking for somewhere else he can stay." Hotch could feel angry jealousy building up inside of him. All these months he had been there for Reid and then Flanders walks in and takes over, when all this crap is his fault to start with.

"Let him stay here Hotchner. Don't keep moving him. He needs to stay here."

"Look at this place Floyd – how can you want him to stay here. I thought you were going to help him?"

Floyd nodded. "I will." He moved the chair over into the sun coming through a window and tilted the chair back a bit. "Sleep. I will be back soon. Aaron will stay with you."

He moved away and gestured for Hotch to move in. "Where are you going?"

"I need to talk to the board of directors of this shit hole. See if I can't make some arrangements which will suit us all."

-o-o-o-

He made demands and then he threatened some people with court, and then he made more demands. Eventually the board agreed to meet with Floyd that evening and so here they were. The suits versus Flanders.

"This place is a shit hole and if I thought it would do him any good I would remove my partner from here faster than you can say Beelzebub, but I don't want to move him again. I know it's unsettling for him and so I am going to make a deal with you."

"We are not inclined to make deals through threats Mr Franks."

"I'm not threatening you. I am promising you. I will set up a trust fund in Reid's name. I will provide you with the money to get this place in order and in return you will permit me to have a double room with him. You will give me the right to do what I want with him when I feel necessary, even if this doesn't fit in with your routine. I have made a list of some of the things you can deal with immediately. The rest will be more gradual; I understand that, but you will sort this place and you will make me a member of the board."

"A trust? How much money are we talking about here Mr Franks?" He was looking down at the paper Floyd had hurriedly written a list on. "This stuff alone will cost thousands of dollars. Many thousands."

Floyd pushed another bit of paper across the table. "See it as a down payment. Spencer Reid is the most important thing here. I will not allow you to keep him in these conditions. That's a banker's draught. Use it. Tomorrow I expect the changes to start showing, and tonight Reid and I need a room for the two of us."

The directors each looked at the new bit of paper Floyd had miraculously provided them with.

"It is against our policy to permit friends to stay the night."

Floyd raised an eyebrow. "I'm not his friend I am his partner and we won't be kept apart by your silly rules. Besides I think I just bought myself more than one of your pox ridden rooms."

"This is an awful lot of money you are offering us."

"I am aware of that. Do you know how many cocks I had to suck to get that much?" He wiped a hand across his mouth.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18 Blow

Chapter 18

Blow

_Spence one said: - Have you lost your mind Floyd? You ran out on me. You covered me in someone's brains, and you expected me to say 'thank you'? (This)_

**A/N: A little tiny bit of implied slash MIGHT be in this chapter. **

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They moved Spencer to a bigger nicer room and a bigger nicer bed. They looked down the list and began to make phone calls. If getting these few things in would guarantee gob loads of money then it was a very small sacrifice to pay.

Senior staff weren't happy. They didn't like this strange bare footed man walking in and calling the shots. They didn't like that he was in the position to question their actions. Not qualified for the job. He had no experience and if he started to think that he knew better then he had best think again.

Reid had been laid on his back around about central on the bed. Floyd stood with his arms crossed and glanced over at Hotch who was standing there watching.

"Excuse me." Hotch said. "He doesn't sleep well on his back."

"What?" The orderly looked over at him.

"On his side facing the wall would be a far better arrangement." Hotch now glanced at Floyd who was watching Hotch carefully.

"Guests feel vulnerable facing the wall." The orderly started to pull the thin white sheet over Spencer.

"How many have you asked? I don't think you have asked Spencer." Hotch took a step forward.

"Well what would be the point? He is unresponsive."

"I can assure you that he's far from unresponsive. Move him." Floyd snapped "and then you might want to think about finding a new job. Maybe cattle or sheep would be more suitable."

"I don't know who you think you are Mister but the orders are to lay them on their backs and so that is what I am going to do."

Floyd saw the warning look from Hotch and walked quickly over to Spencer. "Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He has a name. Maybe not the best name in the world, but it's his and I want you to use it. Dr Reid. Remember it."

Floyd now moved to Spencer and with one hand on his shoulder and another on his hip he carefully rolled him onto his side. The orderly huffed and left the room. Floyd sat on the bed next to Spencer and ran his hands over his bony shoulders.

"I know I don't show it, but I do appreciate what you have done."

"I didn't do it for you Floyd. I did it for Spencer – so you don't need to thank me. I would like to know what you did to get this sudden change in attitude from them though."

Floyd smirked. "I offered them money. Most people can be bought. It was easy, but if Spencer has to spend time in this place, if here is what will eventually help him heal then it needs to be the best. I am just giving them a bit of a push. They will do what I want or I will make life hell for them."

"How much money?"

"Doesn't matter. Hotchner – go home and shower and sleep in your own bed and then come back tomorrow. I plan on meeting up with them all again in the morning."

Hotch nodded. He didn't want to leave Spencer here with Floyd – he had no idea how stable he was or what he might do, but trust has to start somewhere. "I will see you in the morning then."

"I am surprised you know." Floyd was playing with Spencer's hair.

"About?"

"You care more for Spencer than you do your own son."

Hotch didn't react or reply. He knew Floyd just had to say something to upset the delicate balance between them. He closed the door behind him as he left.

"Well babes, it's just the two of us again. All night. Up for a bit of fun?" Floyd slipped under the covers with Spencer and pulled him close. "I mean you only have to say no if you don't want it, but I have missed your arse almost as much as I have missed your mouth and I promise to give you a treat after."

Spencer could hear Floyd's words and he wanted nothing more than to turn over and just hold him tightly. He knew Hotch had been there nearly all the time. He knew Garcia came to visit and he knew he was in a different place – but he didn't seem able to will his body to move for him. He stared at the wall and felt hands moving over his skin. He wanted to take a one of Floyd's hands and gently suck one each finger – one at a time – he wanted to reach behind him and feel Floyds skin against his hand, but all he could do was lay there and stare at the wall.

Reid could feel a hand on his hip pulling him back and he went with the hand and pushed back. He heard a small gasp from Floyd. "Babes – you're doing good. Keep doing that." And a kiss on the back of his neck.

He was gentle. Not the norm for Floyd, but today he was being gentle and saying nice things in Spencer's ear. Telling how much he had missed him. 'like a whore would miss her pussy.' How much he loved him. 'As much as Heathcliffe loved Catherine.' How much he needed him. 'Like rats need filth.' But still he was gentle and he kept his promise. He rolled Spencer onto his back and started by licking and nibbling over his chest and down to his abdomen. He could feel hesitation from Floyd at times, but he didn't know why. He couldn't see the tubes going in and out of his body and feeding into bags. He heard Floyd muttering under his breath and then move up again to Reid's face and kiss him gently on the mouth. "Spence." He heard him say. "I will get you better, I promise and I don't make promised lightly. I will sort this for you." A tongue flashing over his lips and Floyd was moving down his underweight under used body.

Floyd was glad at the reaction he got again. Spencer moved. He thought he would just lay there and be sucked off, but damn him if he didn't arch his back and let out a small noise. As a treat for trying so hard to please, Floyd did his extra special tongue work and kept Reid at the point of no return for far longer than he normally would have bothered.

It reminded Floyd of a good choking. Thumbs in place squeeze and release – wait for the right moment and start to squeeze again. He glanced up at Spencer whose head was tipped back and looked at the pale skin on his throat. The images and thoughts flashing through his mind made him make a muffled moaning which in turn got a small whimper from Spencer.

He would tell Hotch in the morning. There is always hope. He had thought it would have been like screwing a slightly warm corpse, but this somehow managed to be better.

Spencer wasn't sure what the hell Floyd was doing down there but if he didn't do something soon he was going to scream. He clutched the sheet with his right hand and curled his toes and arched his back and threw his head back. He wanted to put a hand on the back of Floyd's head but that for now was not possible.

The rest of the night was spent with arms tightly held around him and for a short while Spencer almost thought things were all going to be OK after all, but then he remembered his father who ultimately was the person responsible for this attitude towards sex being comfort.

-o-o-o-

"There is a problem Mr Franks."

Floyd was standing at a window smoking. He turned to see one of the senior board members with a worried look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Well over the past week or so – since the changes have stated to be made, well the relatives of the guests are concerned about a rise in fees."

"A rise in fees. I see. Gather them. Call a meeting I will talk to them all at the same time."

Miss Barker stood chewing on her bottom lip. "The facility has been upgraded you see, they are expecting to have to pay more. We can actually advertise for higher paying guests and well the board have been considering letting some of the lower ability – in the lines of payments – go."

"I see. Good idea. Get in as much cash as possible. I would still like to talk to them about it."

"Of course. I will leave it up to you then and try to arrange it for later this afternoon."

Floyd looked at her. "Yes Miss Barker – you do that." He turned back to the window and took in a deep hard lung of smoke. He had noticed how no one had dared tell him not to smoke.

-o-o-o-

Aaron and Garcia were spending time with Spencer today. He had told Hotch that Spencer knows exactly what is going on and asked Garcia to research methods to get people moving again. Something to encourage his muscles to work.

Floyd stood in a big room with dozens of bothered looking men and women. He had dressed up for the occasion. He had on a white shirt with the deep cuffs he loved so much. A dark red double breasted waistcoat and black boot cut jeans. He was still barefoot though. He had tied his hair back and had given himself a complete shave.

"Ok…Let's get started. I understand that there are a few concerns about the upgrading we are going through."

A hand shot up. "There are a lot of people here who won't be able to afford a raise in fees. Some of us can only just afford this place as it was. What will we do if you shoot up the fees?"

He smiled a weird toothy smile he usually reserved for a pre-kill. "I will kick you all out and raise the standards of this place not only by my sudden injection of money but also by ripping off the new guests."

A roar went up as people shouted at Floyd who just stood and listened. When the clamour had died down again he carried on. "However, if I was out to make money I wouldn't have invested in a place like this – I would have bought out Microsoft. This is just a small very personal project for me. I intend to up the standards of this place but raising the fees isn't something that will happen. I'm not after your money." Silence as they stood waiting for the catch.

Floyd lit a cheroot. "That's all. You can go now."

-o-o-o-

Things were going well. Hotch was surprised at how well Floyd was pulling things together and seemingly to be philanthropic and almost caring. He stood and watched Floyd standing behind Spencer and brush his hair. He would do that all day if he could.

Floyd put the brush down and then moved in front of Reid and knelt down. "I have something for you." He pulled a bit of ribbon out of his pocket. "You chose this for me to put in my hair. I want you to hold it for me Spence." He took Reid's hand and wound the ribbon around his fingers. "Hold it. Keep it safe."

Morgan came and stood with Hotch. "I don't know what to make of all this." He indicated around the place. "Why is he doing this?"

Hotch looked at Morgan. "I thought that was pretty obvious."

"He wants him better, yes I know, so he can batter him half to death again? Does this take away all he has done? Or is this giving him an excuse to abuse him later?"

"It doesn't take away what he has done. This is all his fault."

"No Hotch man. This isn't all his fault. Something was wrong with that boy from the beginning. No one gets in that situation when surrounded by Feds and doesn't ask for help unless they don't want help. Unless they are so used to being treated like crap that it seemed almost normal." The two men walked away to go to the new kitchen to make a coffee and find something to eat.

Floyd looked at Spencer's hand with the ribbon and sighed. He then moved closer, pushing Spencer's knees apart and running his hands over Spencer's legs. "You up for it?" A finger ran across the little bit of flesh he could see between the top of the sweatpants he lived in now and the bottom of his Tshirt. "A bit of fun before rest time?" and his thumb was hooked behind the waist band pulling it down slightly.

"Excuse me sir." Floyd stopped what he was doing and look over at a suit standing watching him.

"I'm busy."

"I need to talk to you."

"Later."

"I need to talk to you now."

Floyd looked up at Spencer. "I'll be back." Floyd stood up and walked over to the man who had been watching. "What?"

"The board would like to talk to you about something. Now."

"It will have to wait, I can't leave him alone."

"An orderly will wait with him. This way."

Floyd followed the suit to a small meeting room.

"Take a seat Mr Franks."

"I am fine standing thank you."

"We are a little bit concerned."

"About?"

"Well to be honest. You. Your behaviour."

"My behaviour. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The board would like to know where you got the money from to support this facility to the extent you have."

"Why?"

"We wouldn't like to think that your money was made dishonestly."

"I'm a whore who sold his soul to the devil in exchange for unlimited funds. As for my behaviour - what are you talking about?"

"You seem to be over familiar with your friend."

"He's my lover."

"Over familiar in public."

"Don't look then." He wiped his hand under his nose. "Look I have given this place millions of dollars to sort it's self out and you are moaning at me for blowing Spencer? You are truly pathetic. I will withdraw every dime if that will make you happier."

"That won't be necessary Mr Franks. But can you please be a bit more discreet?"

Floyd turned and left the room without giving an answer. He was cross now. He returned to Reid and told the orderly to piss off and the returned to kneeling in front of Spencer. Again he moved in and got comfortable. "I'm back Spence. You still want this?" It seemed pretty obvious to Floyd that Spencer wanted it and so he continued where he had left off. "You still got that ribbon there babes. Don't you lose it will you? Hold tight – ready or not…here I come – or you do…"

His mind was so centred on the task in hand so to speak that at first he didn't realise quite what was going on.

Something touched the back of his head and then the hand gripped hold of Floyd's hair. Again he didn't take a lot of notice of it. His thoughts somewhere else concentrating on doing a good memorable job, something Spence wouldn't forget.

Then slowly it sunk into Floyd's head. Two hands now on the back of his head and hips moving up and forward. The hands twisting the hair and holding tight as Floyd did what he claimed earned him his wealth. When Floyd knelt back up and covered Spencer over again he looked up and saw Spencer was looking back down at him. It was now he realised that Reid had used the ribbon to tie his hair back with.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19 The New Floyd

Chapter 19

The New Floyd

_Power without __abuse__ loses its charm__: - __Paul Valery _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Floyd Flanders Franks is.

* * *

Floyd got to his feet and moved to the side. Reid's eyes followed him and then flickered back to looking out at nothing.

"No point in playing games with me Spence. I know." He stepped in closely and grabbed Spencer's jaw in his hand. "Don't fuck about with me Spencer." Again Reid's eyes moved and met Floyd's. They didn't look happy, they looked more than a little bit terrified. "I think you need to rest now." Floyd moved out of Reid's line of sight and pushed his chair back to their room.

He pushed Reid into the room and closed and locked the door behind him. He then moved in front of Reid and pulled his face around to look at him. "Spencer – I really hope you haven't forgotten me. You wouldn't do that would you? You put the ribbon in for me." Reid just stared back at him. "Right babes – you know how much I like playing games and making rules – well now you seem to be able to move I think it's time to lay down some nice new fresh ones." Reid blinked. "Good Spence. You will not look at Hotchner. I don't want him to know you are doing this." He took Spencer's hand in his and squeezed. "I will be watching you always and if you try to communicate with that son of a bitch I will break your fucking fingers. Understand?" He squeezed harder and in response the fingers curled around Floyd's. "Good – good – we have an understanding. I can make you better and get you out of that sodding chair but only if you do what I tell you." A big smile.

Spencer felt confused. One minute he knew what was going on and who was who and the next it was all gone again. He was sure he should know this person. Somewhere creeping around in the back of his fuzzled mind was a memory but it was confused and blurred. The one thing he did know was that this person was a threat and he had to do what he was told or there would be pain involved.

He felt the crushing grip Floyd had on his hand and he wanted to cry out and pull it back but all he could do was curl his fingers around the offending hand to let it know he understood. He looked into Floyd's eyes and wondered who he was and what he had done to make this person so angry with him and so he closed his eyes and faced away from this. Maybe that way it wouldn't have just happened. He felt the grip loosen on his hand and he let his hand drop back down and rest on his lap

A light knocking on the door was followed by fingers gripping his jaw again. "Don't move don't open your eyes don't twitch." He pushed Reid's head back hard against the head support.

And now Spencer could hear another voice. A familiar one. One which he had been hearing constantly for what seemed an eternity. This person was safe and this person wasn't likely to hurt. He wanted to reach out and let him know he was waking….he wanted this other person to rescue him from here but for now he sat and listened.

"Any news?"

"No change – nothing. I'm going to get him ready for bed."

"I'll help."

Spencer felt a hand on his shoulder. A hard unfriendly hand.

"I don't need help."

"I would like Spencer to know I am here."

Reid felt the fingers dig in and pinch at his skin.

"I am sure he knows."

Spencer could hear footsteps and the hand got tighter and a gentle hand moved over his. "Goodnight then Spencer. I'll see you again tomorrow. Floyd – look after him."

"Obviously." And the hard hand was gone.

Spencer heard the door close again and then the sound of a lock and now he could feel hot breath on the back of his neck. "I have a feeling that I am going to have to re-introduce myself to you babes – though you enjoyed the blow, you are filth and would probably have enjoyed that from anyone. Do you know how that makes me feel? That you would do that?"

Reid opened his eyes and looked at him; big hot angry tears were forcing their way out and down his cheeks.

"Wipe your damned face." Floyd hissed.

Slowly Reid moved his hand up to his face and wiped away the wetness without taking his eyes off Floyd.

"There is a risk now I suppose that you will start to make a fuss and want to get up out of that chair. Do you want to get up Spence? Fancy going for a walk about? Blabbing your damned filthy mouth off to anyone you can find?" Floyd's face was so close that their lips almost touched. A quick flick with his tongue and Floyd licked at Spencer's slightly open mouth. Reid could see that Floyd was looking at his mouth. He wanted to move his head to the side but the head and neck support on the back of his chair kept him facing forwards. Slowly he moved a hand up and placed on it Floyd and pushed. It was a weak push and had no actual effect but Floyd still looked down at it and frowned.

"What's all this babes? You trying to push me away or pull me closer?"

Spencer watched Floyd move away and pull something out of his pocket. It looked like a small envelope but he was finding focusing beyond a certain distance a problem. He needed his glasses. He squinted in an attempt to see what this Floyd person was doing. He could see Floyd kept looking over at him and now he watched as he approached him again the envelope back in his pocket and something pinched between his fingers.

"Spence." Was all he said as he moved his hand forwards and pushed his thumb and finger between Spencer's lips. "Bite me and I will knock your teeth out."

Reid just stared back. It tasted bitter and sweet and hot. He wiped his tongue over what Floyd had put in his mouth and it made is tongue go numb. He looked up at Floyd with a look of panic on his face. His hands came up in a panicky flutter and then fell back into his lap. Spencer's head lolled forwards as the drug took effect and sent him to sleep. "Sweet dreams angel." Floyd smirked and pushed the chair into the corner so Spencer was facing the wall and put the brake on.

He then walked happily over to his bed and lay on his back with his hands under his head, content that he was making Spencer's life more miserable than it already was. He really hoped that he wasn't going to have to start all from the beginning again.

-o-o-o-

The following day Floyd left Reid to be sorted out by the staff while he went to find the doctor.

"I want the tubes removed."

"What? What do you mean? Is there problem?"

"I want to encourage him to eat."

"It's not that easy."

"I need to take him home and I cant to that with that crap in him, so you have a week to wean him off and get him back to how he was."

"If you want to take him home I can arrange for a nurse."

"I don't want him with those things in him. Get rid of them."

"We find that this form of treatment is much better for the disabled."

A fast rock hard punch to the face sent the doctor back and against the wall. "Don't you call him that. He's getting better." Floyd walked over to the doctor and gave him a follow up kick. "Sort him. Get that crap out of him. I am taking him home in a week ready or not."

The doctor had one hand to a bloody nose and another pulling himself up off the floor. "I – I'll…"

"You what? You will get security to remove me? You will stop my visits? What will you do? I own this fucking place don't even think about telling me what to do. Get out there and fix my boy. Now. I don't care if it means you have to chew his food for him. You will sort it."

"It really isn't as easy as you are making it seem."

"It's not? You are telling me I can't have what I am asking for?"

The doctor stood holding his face in his hand and shook his head. "It has been a long time. He will be in a lot of pain."

"That's what drugs are for doctor."

-o-o-o-

Hotch stood by the doors with a confused look on his face. "What do you mean I can't go in?"

"I'm sorry sir. I have been told no visitors for Dr Reid."

"Who told you that?"

"It's right here on the computer sir, do you want me to double check that for you?"

Hotch slowly turned to her. "Yes – yes please could you do that? I think there's been a mistake."

He stood with his arms crossed and watched the receptionist check on the computer. "It definitely says no visitors for Dr Reid. I will make a phone call for you."

Hotch nodded, but he had a damned good idea what was going on here. Floyd had moved in and they had foolishly trusted him. Again.

"Sir, yes I am very sorry. The orders come from the top so to speak. No visitors."

"This is ridiculous I have been caring for him since before the accident. He can't just remove my rights to see him."

"Yes I can." A cold voice from Floyd. Hotch hadn't seen him arrive.

"Flanders, what the hell are you doing?"

"It is my right as the next of kin to say who and who does not visit him. You are now on the official shit list. Get out before I have you thrown out and don't even think about this being illegal. It's not. I am his partner; you are nothing to him and are just upsetting his healing process. I would like to remind you that he was in your oh so loving care when you left him alone knowing his mental health was so fragile – and thus it is entirely your fault that he walked into the road. So get out of my sight."

"I will be back. Don't you worry about that."

"You do that." A small nod. "You still wont get in and as I haven't committed an offence I very much doubt you will be coming back with a warrant – or with your little dusky side kick – whose only reason on this entire planet is to kick doors down and call me a sonofabitch. Get out and don't come back or it will you being arrested for trespass."

Floyd turned to go when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I haven't finished with you Flanders. I want to know what you are up to. I need to know he is safe."

"I will get him to crayon you a picture. Now get your damned hand off me before I pull your arms off and stuff them up your tight little arse. And yes Miss Johnson – I've fucked him too."

Hotch removed his hand and took a step back. "You won't get away with this."

Floyd pushed the door open to go back into the main area. "Too late. I already have." And he was gone.

-o-o-o-

And so once again things changed for Spencer. He could feel things being pulled from his body as he lay back on the hospital bed. He wanted to scream at them to stop. It felt like they were ripping out his intestines. Floyd had given him something to keep his muscles relaxed but it didn't stop the horrendous pain he was going through. Not helped any by Floyd's absolute insistence in being there whilst the process was carried out. He held Spencer's hand gently and talked to him quietly. He bent down and lovingly kissed him on the forehead and pinched the skin on the back of his hand and all Reid could do was lay and look at the man who was putting him through so much.

-o-o-o-

The food was going everywhere. Reid had his jaw clamped shut and was not going to open it without a fight. As it turned out it was a very short lived fight. Floyd rammed his fingers into Reid's mouth and squirted something down the back of this throat. Spencer followed this with coughing and choking and gagging noises.

"Just swallow it and stop messing around."

Big hazel eyes looked up at Floyd.

"It's not going to hurt you. Just swallow it. You do remember how to swallow don't you? I fucking well hope so or your use to me is going to be very limited. Now try again. You need to swallow it not breath it in."

The eyes were still looking up at Floyd.

"You would rather have tubes stuck in you forever? You liked living like that?"

A very small almost un- noticeable shake of the head.

"Good – so swallow – its nothing bad – just liquidised stuff. It won't hurt."

Spencer licked his lips and nodded.

"Good! Christ you are hard work sometimes Spence."

-o-o-o-

This Floyd person. Spencer knew he should know him. He recognised things about him. The way he stood. The accent. That smell. The feel of his hands. The mouth and that tongue of his. These things he knew. What he didn't know was why he knew them.

He seemed to be three people. A kind thoughtful loving one, a spiteful bully, and the comforter. He got vivid flashbacks of this childhood, but of this Floyd person there was nothing, except those few things – feelings and sounds and smells he could remember.

Spencer wanted to ask what happened to the other guy who was here all the time. The one with the kind words, but forming his own words now was not working too well.

And now fingers pressing against his lips again as the syringe of liquid food was pushed to the back of his throat and then squirted. He thought he was going to die. The pain was intense. He opened his mouth to scream and got a slap around the face and a warning not to spit.

He heard this person telling him that they would be able to go home soon. And how wonderful that would be. The two of them alone again. He listened to this person babble on about selling the place they had before and going somewhere more suitable. He listened to the different adaptations they can make to the place to make it suitable for a cripple.

He couldn't remember living with Floyd. He couldn't imagine why he would want to. He tried to remember where he lived and got flashes of a small apartment with lots of books. He couldn't remember if he liked books or not though.

Spencer felt Floyd removing the straps from around his chest and the harness which fed under his arms to stop him slipping downwards. He was then pushed into the bathroom and hauled off the chair and sat on the toilet.

"Just sit there for a few hours. I will be back." Floyd put the harness around Reid again and clipped it onto the metal rings in the wall. "Oops, better sort this out."

And now he was sitting alone with his sweatpants around his ankles strapped to a toilet. This was bad enough, but as Floyd left the room he flicked the light off and so he sat alone in the dark with horrendous pains shooting through his body as it tried to do what it hadn't had to do in a year.

-o-o-o-

Floyd had locked the door to the bathroom and he had locked the door to his room. No one was allowed to enter.

"Dr Reid needs to sleep and needs to be left alone. You will not under any circumstance enter the room."

He then left and walked out of the building and down towards the town. It didn't take long. Since his recovery he seemed to be back up to full health again. The regeneration had worked well. He had been away for too long though. Yet again the advantage with what had happened was that each time it took years off him. He looked good and felt good and was after some fun.

Floyd made his way to the familiar streets he liked to walk. He stood and watched the hustlers of the other side of the street and thought how disgusting they were. Animals. Filthy scum.

A car pulled up next to him and the window opened. Floyd walked forwards and looked in. "What are you after?" he asked the guy in the suit.

He got an answer and Floyd smiled at him and walked around to the passenger side. He was barely in the vehicle when it was moving off quickly down the street.

Floyd looked at the guy driving. Mid thirties. A bit of money behind him. Blonde. Smart – well dressed smart not acting too smart. He pulled over into a small parking bay behind the shops and turned to look at Floyd. He moved his hand down and got ready as the blond chap moved over to pleasure Floyd.

He had been away for a few hours by the time he returned to Spencer. He asked if anyone had been in the room.

No one had.

Were there any messages.

No messages.

Floyd nodded. " I'm going to sleep now" and he was going back into the room he shared with the man he loved. In his own unique way. He locked the door behind him and went to the bathroom. He unlocked the door and opened it slowly. The switch for the light was on the wall outside the room. Floyd flicked it on and looked over a Spencer. He was slumped forwards on the harness. Floyd closed the bathroom door and again locked it and walked over to Spencer.

"You OK there?" a smirk on his face.

He touched Spencer on the shoulder and got a spectacular reaction.

Reid kicked and slapped and punched and when that didn't work and Floyd got close enough he tried to bite him. He was making strange noises as he thrashed and kicked and tried to scream.

Spencer tried to get the man off him. He just didn't have enough strength in his body anymore. His muscles had been left to fade away and now even movement hurt but he still did all he could and it had no effect at all. He could feel hands touching him and a soothing voice talking to him.

"Hey it's ok – I'm back now."

And arms holding him close – a hand running over his back and another holding Spencer's head close to his shoulder.

"You are fine. See no harm done."

Spencer's eyes leaked hot tears and his muddled mind accepted the comfort he was getting. He put his own arms around Floyd and held on tightly.

"There – all is good. I am just getting you better. And some of it is going to be painful. I have a pill you can take soon. Do you want to try to stand? I will help you."

A slow shake of the head.

And so he was carried and dumped on the bed and Floyd bounced down next to him. "Open up…it will help with the pain. Try and crunch it."

Spencer frowned.

"Come on Spence…after all I have done for you today – you really think I would hurt you? Open up and down the hatch please."

He did as he was asked. His mind too confused to argue the logic of all of this and his body in too much pain.

Spencer rolled over onto his side and Floyd curled up behind him pulling the sheet up to cover them. He wrapped his arms around his victim and held him close. He planted little kisses over the back of his neck and breathed in the sweet smell of the shampoo. He could feel the instinctive push back from Reid and Floyd sighed.

"So Spence. I had an evening getting blown by blokes in cars – did you do anything interesting?"

* * *


	20. Chapter 20 The Crawl

Chapter 20

The Crawl

_Everybody is searching for a hero  
People need someone to look up to  
I never found anyone to fulfil my needs  
A lonely place to be  
So I learned to depend on me: - The Greatest Love of All/George Benson_

**A/N: - Thank you all for still being with me on this one.**

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Floyd is.

* * *

He spent the following day laying on the bed. Floyd was making phone calls usually standing in the bathroom. Then he would kneel at the bottom of the bed and start massaging Spencer's legs and feet. Placing the palm of his hand against the bottom of Spencer's feet and telling him to push. He manoeuvred him and pulled and pushed him into different positions pulling on his muscles trying to get them to wake up a bit more.

Spencer had tears of frustration running down the sides of his face. There was nothing he would have liked better than to be able to get up off the bed and walk out of that room and – well he didn't have a plan beyond that.

Floyd held Reid's hands and tried to get him to pull himself up to sit. "Come on….I know you can do this. Concentrate. I need you to get better." And another pill was forced between his lips.

Spencer wanted to ask so many questions but his brain refused to let him say the words. He lay and frowned at Floyd who then leant in and gave him a light kiss on the lips.

He needed to know if they were lovers. He couldn't imagine they would be. Why would someone like that want someone like him anyway. Especially now. This man was rich and successful and beautiful…he could have anyone. Why was he here forcing pills and drinks down him then strapping him to the toilet and threatening him if he did anything against the list of rules which had been made.

"They are to keep you safe babes. Don't think I am trying to control you. That's not what this is all about."

And Reid just looked back at the man with the magic mouth and the spiteful hands and hated every bone in his abusive body.

Floyd kept this up for three days. The days Spencer spent laying on the bed having his legs and arms pulled and pushed and various body parts sucked and licked. It seemed Floyd thought he was enjoying just because he was responding to the hands and mouth, but he wasn't enjoying it – at least he didn't think he was.

He had liquids poured down his throat and he managed to drink with a straw. Floyd then carried him to the bathroom and strapped him in place whilst he made more phone calls.

The nights were spent strapped to the chair. He protested the first time. He really didn't want to go back in the chair. The thought of being trapped in that thing scared him enough to kick out and try to slap Floyd away. The fist to the side of the head stopped him.

Today was different. Floyd got him ready for what had become his normal routine. A very basic wash and strapped to the latrine for a few hours, which in some ways was a relief – for obvious reasons and in other ways it was good because Floyd left him alone. Always on the phone. The day started off the same. Wash – strapped down – left and usually it was lobbed on the bed like a pile of dirty laundry and manipulated and pulled and stretched and shouted at for the next few hours – let us not forget the continual supply of pills.

Spencer spat a pill out once. A new found skill which was easily subdued by having his bare foot stamped on. He didn't spit them out again. Today was different though. He was not taken to the bed he was strapped back into his uber chair and his upper arms were strapped back so he couldn't use them. His ankles strapped into place and his head pushed back into the support. The only thing he could do was move his hands and knees – until Floyd tied his legs down and put a blanket over his lap.

"Open your mouth – breakfast time."

Spencer just looked up with eyes telling Floyd he was going to protest this all he could. Which wasn't much.

"Open your mouth or I will force it open and you know how much that hurts."

He kept his jaw tightly shut, but still felt the tube being fed into his mouth to the back of his throat and the liquid being piped down. Again he coughed and gagged and choked and again he tried to spit, but Floyd clamped a hand over his mouth and watched until he swallowed. And there was something horribly familiar about the feel of that hand over his mouth.

"Now relax and enjoy the journey. We are going on a trip"

Reid tried to struggle. He tried to move his head and clench his fists and writhe and kick and scream, but the drug which Floyd had just given him took over quickly and stopped him from doing anything but staying awake staring into nothing.

They travelled in a vehicle which had been converted for wheelchair use. Reid was in the back of the vehicle and Floyd drove. He kept up a steady banter chatting about how nice it would be get him home again at last.

"You must be missing everything. I made sure I got everything back to how it was. You left it in a bit of a mess, but I sorted it out, so don't worry. Luckily we live somewhere with no stair as such so that's not even going to be a problem. I think once you are home surrounded by your familiar things you will feel a lot better."

The chat was continuous. Floyd didn't let up hardly for a breath. The vehicle finally pulled over in front of a single story red brick building. It had no front garden, just a strip of sidewalk and then stair leading up to some doors. A ramp had been build up the stair for the chair. Floyd turned and smiled at Spencer. "Is it coming back to you now? All those lazy nights we spent sitting on the steps smoking and drinking watching the world go by? We will get back to it again eventually. Just got to get you better first and I think this will help."

Spencer was feeling a bit less drowsy now and he managed to turn his head to look at his 'home'. He felt confused. He really thought he would remember something about it. The colour or the over all atmosphere of it, but there was nothing. He frowned and looked over at Floyd, who opened the side doors and looked up at Reid's face.

"What's wrong? You don't remember? Shit Spence I thought this would help. I'll take you back." He slowly started to close the door again but the slow shake of the head told Floyd all he needed. Caught. He had Reid.

-o-o-o-

Hotch turned up the next day and asked to talk to Mr Franks. Morgan and Prentiss were with him.

"I'm sorry sir he's not here." The receptionist said.

"You are going to let us in to see Dr Reid then?"

"He's not here either sir, but the order to restrict your visits has been lifted. If you want to go in...but they're not here."

"We can wait. When will they be back?" Hotch watch Morgan and Prentiss go through the doors.

"Well I don't imagine Dr Reid will be back. I'm sorry."

The words were heard by Morgan who stopped and turned to listen to the rest of the conversation.

"He won't be returning?" Hotch was getting agitated.

"Mr Franks has moved him to somewhere more suitable. He wasn't showing any signs of recovery. The new place does intensive work on the disabled to get them moving again."

"And the name of the place?"

She slowly shook her head. "I don't think he said."

Aaron went to join Morgan and Prentiss who were standing in the door way of the room Floyd had been using.

Morgan turned to Hotch. "Nothing. You'd think they'd never been here. He can't just move him like that and not tell anyone." Morgan's fist me the door.

Aaron felt sick. All the time he had spent with him and protected him and now not only had Floyd taken over and stopped them seeing him, but Reid was gone. "Morgan get Garcia on the phone and get a list of all the places which fit the description we were given. I need him found."

-o-o-o-

Reid was in the lounge he was meant to be able to remember but didn't. Floyd was nattering on excitedly telling him of the things they had done.

"Hey babes, you want out of the chair now? I won't ever make you go back in there again, but I have something special to show you first." He grabbed the back of the chair and pushed it down the passage towards a slightly open door. He stopped just in front of it and then walked around the chair and pushed the door open with his foot. He then leaned in and started to undo the straps. The final one unclipped and the blanket thrown aside Floyd moved back. "Get up then. You don't want to live in that thing for the rest of your miserable life do you?"

Spencer looked up at Floyd and then into the room beyond which seemed empty from where he was sitting. He tried. He wanted to get up out of the chair and please him. He must have loved him once. He kept telling him he did and as he was the only person who seemed to care….except for the owner of that other voice.

He felt the hand rest on the top of his head and then the fingers wound around his long wavy hair.

"Get up!" And he was being pulled forwards out of the chair. "I have tried every fucking thing to get you to do what you are damned well meant to and you have forced my hand Spencer." Reid was now laying on the floor face down, but the hand had gone from his hair. Before he could react Floyd grabbed his hand and started to drag him forwards. "This is your room. I got this idea from something that happened to me once and so this is how it works." He dragged Spencer to the middle of the white room. It was devoid of everything except a toilet and a mattress on the floor. Everything was painted white. "All yours Spence love. If you want anything, just ask or do something. Something like get up off the floor or have a piss in the right place. You know things normal people can do and you will force your crippled arse to do. Understand me."

A very small nod.

Floyd knelt down next to Reid and looked closely at his face. "Give me a kiss babes."

His reply was to spit in Floyd's face. Floyd's reply was to slap him around the face and leave him on the floor in the empty room.

Spencer had no idea how long he had been laying there for but he knew he had to move. His face hurt and his mouth tasted of blood. He had cut his cheek on his teeth when Floyd hit him.

He had a few option open to him now. Roll over and try to get to the bed. Roll over and try to get to the toilet – either option required him doing something he didn't know if he could do. And either option would be doing that Floyd wanted him to do. Doing anything would be and he couldn't just lay where he was forever. He had a good idea that Floyd meant what he said.

And so he tried. He put one hand flat on the floor and pushed and moved one leg so he could push with his foot. It hurt, it was agony and at the half way point when he was on his side he rested and cried as he felt his muscles going into spasms and cramps and his head throbbed with pain and he desperately wanted one of Floyd magical pain killers. The more he thought about them the more determined he was to roll over onto his front – though what he would be able to manage beyond that he was unsure. He realised now that attempting to get to the bed or the toilet was a stupid idea. He would never be able to manage that…it would just be too painful.

Spencer looked over at the bed. He wanted to lay down on the mattress and feel safe. He wanted to wrap his arms around him self to stop him self from blowing away and becoming nothing.

Again he pushed with his foot and finally tipped over onto his front. He lay panting with he eyes screwed shut as the pain shot through him – up his legs and into his groin. Over the back of his shoulders and down his arms…His head and neck and then shooting along his spine. He thought he was dying. Right here and now that his heart was going to suddenly stop and that would be then end and in a small way he hoped it would be.

He placed the palms of his hands on the floor and tried to push up but there didn't seem to be any strength left. His muscles went straight back into twitching cramps. He stopped trying and rested his forehead on floor and tried to take deep breaths and get oxygen to his muscles and brain. He closed his eyes again as he felt his body start to shake and his heart thump at what felt like a dangerous rate.

"Spence." The voice was coming from next to him. He hadn't heard him come in the room. "You did good. I have this for you." He placed two painkillers on the floor next to Spencer's hand. "That must've hurt like shit. You did a good job. Now for another treat you need to get up on you hands and knees." Then Floyd was gone again. He lay looking at the pills for a while. They would stop it from feeling like his head was going to explode. They would stop is muscles shaking….he could get to the bed. He would be able to do that. He could do this. He knew he could do this. He carefully picked up the pills and slipped them between his lips and crunched down on them.

The room span for a little while, but the shaking stopped and the pain was gone. He placed the palms of his hands on the floor again and pushed up so he was resting on his forearms and now to his knees. One at a time. Slowly pulling his leg up stopping occasionally to remember to breathe and rest his forehead back down on the floor. He was shaking again but this time it was just through the pure effort of making long unused muscles remember what to do.

-o-o-o-

Floyd put on a pair of tight black low cut jeans and a black shirt which he pulled around and tied at the front. He then slipped over his shoulders a small black leather jacket. He had scuffed old battered cowboy boots on his feet. He tucked his hair behind his ears and pulled on some leather fingerless gloves.

"He'll be OK for a few hours." Floyd stood and looked down to the door he had taken Spencer to and then turned to face the front door. A sigh and he walked into a small room to the side of the lounge. It was an office. There were monitors set up across the wall. Some showed different angles of the room Spencer was in – but they also had an outside view so he knew who was at the door, and one showing an empty bedroom. He turned them all off except for the one focused on Reid. He could see the effort he was putting into this. He could see the way his body was shaking with the effort and he could see the beads of sweat over Spencer's back – he wanted to go in there and help him. Give him an arm to hold. Give him verbal encouragement, but that wasn't going to help. Spencer had to do this on his own because he needed to. He had spent too much time relying on everyone else. It was time Spence got better. He was annoyed that Spencer didn't remember him. After all he had done. Maybe he should have taken him back to his own home and not brought him here, but this was more fun, and the healing of the body and the healing of the mind were two different things. If he had forgotten him, then he probably had forgotten Hotchner, and he was going to have fun getting to know this new Reid and bending him back to his way again.

Floyd stroked a finger over the monitor. "Come on babes…I know you can do it." With a flick he turned off the monitor and stood up.

He was going to go out and have some fun. Spence wouldn't miss him for a few hours.

-o-o-o-

He had no idea how long it took. One agonizing movement after another. His head pounding again and his muscles shaking the sweat was trickling down his sides off his back and dripping from his face onto the floor. His vision was blurred and his heart beating too hard and too fast but finally he managed to put one hand on the edge of the mattress. It was new. It was white. It was soft and heavenly. With a final push he forced his body as far as his chest onto the comfort of a bed. He then let his body relax and he just lay and let the tears come. This was more than he could have managed last week though. This time last week he was strapped in the chair or laying on the bed. Now he had crawled across a room. Maybe Floyd's method had reasoning behind it. He closed his damp eyes and tried to sleep and regain some energy.

And there he was in his dream, as small boy standing at the toilet. He was then walking back to his room as quietly as he could. He felt the hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing out of bed son? Couldn't sleep? Want a cuddle to get you back to sleep? Don't tell your mother though. You know how cross she gets for no reason. You won't want to upset her."

* * *

_And if by chance, that special place  
That you've been dreaming of  
Leads you to a lonely place  
Find your strength in love_

* * *


	21. Chapter 21 Moth

Chapter 21

Moth

_You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist: - __Friedrich Nietzsche _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Flanders is.

* * *

They knew there were a few places Floyd haunted. They knew he couldn't stay away from them and they were going to look until they found the son of a bitch. It was decided that it would only be a matter of time and so Morgan and Hotch spent that first night walking the streets where they knew Floyd frequented in the hopes that old habits die hard.

It paid off after three hours of checking places then going back and checking again and drinking coffee and then looking again. They didn't ask questions as they didn't want him to be alerted.

It was Morgan who saw him. At first he wasn't sure and then he wasn't sure he wanted to get too close. He called Hotch and told him he could see Floyd and to hurry he didn't know how long he would be there for.

-o-o-o-

He was leaning on the wall with his head back and his eyes closed one hand was on the top of the head of the lad kneeling at his feet and the other at his side pressing back into the brickwork. He was happy and relaxed until he felt his fun suddenly being removed and something cold being pressed against the side of his head. He knew who it was without having to open his eyes.

"Agent Derek Morgan. How nice of you to want to join in. I wont charge you and I know you wont pull the trigger so put your toy away."

"What makes you so sure I won't?" Derek hissed at him removing the gun from Floyd's head and re-holstering it

"Because then you will never find him and that is why you are here isn't it." He still had his eyes closed but his hands moved down to redress himself properly.

"Just tell us where he is." Hotch's voice now.

Floyd opened his eyes to face them. "I know you don't trust me. I know you don't like the relationship Spencer and I have, but he is a grown man. He's not a kid, he is far from stupid, and he can make his own decisions."

"Floyd – I just need to know he is safe."

Floyd's eyes flickered over Aaron's face. "Is that all? Why didn't you say so?" Floyd smiled and nodded. "He is safe – now go away or blow me. Your choice."

Morgan was on him faster then Aaron could stop him. He grabbed the front of Floyd's shirt and brought his knee up into his groin. Morgan didn't give Floyd the option of backing off. He took the chance or Flanders hesitation while he took in the pain and pulled him forward and down and brought a knee up into his face and a fist to the side of his head. Floyd staggered sideways and then pulled himself upright again.

He took a deep breath, put a hand to his bloodied mouth and looked at Morgan. "I can see I underestimated you. You played your card to soon Derek. I will be prepared next time."

"Where the hell is he?" Derek growled at him as Hotch stepped in to try to stop the fight resuming.

"This isn't going to help. Flanders – we need to see Spencer. I need to know that you are not holding him against his will."

Floyd pulled a small thin silver pen from his pocket and looked at Hotch. "I will give you my cell number. Call me."

Hotch nodded and gave him a card to write the number down on. He then checked the number and watched Floyd pull a slim phone from his pocket and showed them it was ringing…or rather vibrating.

"I'm in most of the day but I should warn you – he doesn't actually know who you are." He smiled. "It's not that he's ungrateful but the accident has really fucked with his memory. Now if you don't mind you are spoiling my evening."

"I could have you arrested for prostitution."

"Yes I know you could Aaron, but I also know you wont and all the time I am getting what I want here I won't be asking your precious innocent Spencer for any." He wiped the blood away from his mouth and ran a hand over his bare abdomen. "Twenty bucks a blow Derek. Interested?"

Derek turned his back and walked away Aaron was at his shoulder. "I'm never going to understand why he does that. He has more money than we want to even think about yet he does that. Why?"

"I don't know Morgan. I don't know what I would do if I could have anything I wanted. I suppose I would start by taking things from other people and playing at being something I'm not. I really don't know…but I think that's what motivates him. He is a very empty person."

"You think?"

-o-o-o-

He dreamed of laying in the dark with the bed covers pulled over his head. He could hear his father shouting and he could hear his mother shouting back. He didn't listen to the words, just the feeling behind them. He needed to get up and go to the bathroom but his father was still awake and so he couldn't. He lay in the dark and listened to the shouting and when it finally died down and the house was in silence he figured he would make a run for the toilet. He pushed the covers back and looked at the strip of light under the door. Slowly and carefully he tip toed to the door. He put his hand up at the handle at the same time he saw the shadow under the door stop.

He took a deep breath and stayed still, but it was too late. The door was opening and his father was standing there looking at him.

"What are you doing out of bed Spencer?"

"I – I n n need.." but it was too late as he felt the warmth down his legs as he disgraced himself in front of his father.

"Go back to bed Spencer. I will be in later to make sure you are asleep – and change your pyjamas." And he was standing in the dark again with hot tears of embarrassment and anger and fear all mixed together.

A sudden hand on his back made him jump. "Spence?" This wasn't his father. Someone flopped down on the bed next to him. "Spence are you awake?"

He turned his head to look at Floyd. He had a split lip. Spencer frowned and placed a finger on Floyd's lip.

"Don't worry. A little accident. You were talking…You know you were talking. In your sleep?"

Reid just looked up at him.

"Well that's good babes. It shows that the damage is probably psychological or something. I will google it later. I need to talk to you later too." Floyd frowned and ran fingers through Spencer's hair. "You need – you know – to go?"

Another small frown and a nod.

"OK. Let me help you. You did good today. Take this first." He pushed two pills between Reid's lips and watched happily as they got chewed on. "It will hurt I know, but it's just your muscles getting used again." He put his arms under Spencer's and pulled him into an upright position. "This is far from easy 'cos you are such a tall bugger. I'm holding you up babes, you won't fall. You just need to put one foot in front of the other and walk up over to the loo." He stood behind Reid and kept the balance for him as painfully slowly they walked over to the toilet.

Reid's mind was in a confused turmoil. He knew he didn't like this person. He knew that Floyd had strapped him to a toilet and left him in the dark. He knew he had kept other people away – that if he protested he got hurt, but he also knew that this Floyd seemed to care. Why would he be doing this now and talking to him like this if he didn't care slightly. Somewhere inside Floyd there was more than the pain and the hurt and little hints showed. Like now. He was being gentle. He felt Floyd manoeuvre him around so they were facing.

"Ok just lower yourself down." Floyd helped him sit slowly and then leaned in and gave him a kiss on the nose. "Well done babes." You have earned big treats. Think you can stay there without a harness?"

Spencer nodded.

"Did he fuck you?"

Reid looked at Floyd and frowned.

"Is that why you don't talk about him? Why you have blocked him out of your life? He did more than just walk out on your mum didn't he?"

Spencer blinked.

"Did your father fuck you Spencer?"

"N n nooo." It was a quiet whisper of a sound but it was there.

Floyd didn't react to it he just turned his back and walked away.

He left Spencer for a while…and went to the office. He flicked on the monitors and then closed the camera down on the one focused on Spencer and brought up a search engine. He typed in the name 'William Reid' and sat back looking at the results.

-o-o-o-

She was in her early twenties. Shoulder length hair and in jeans and a green tight fitting vest top. It had been a fun party – and it was only a short walk from where she lived in her bedsit. Her head was buzzing still with the drugs in her system and she babbled on and muttered to herself. She didn't struggle when the hand with some odd smelling cloth wrapped around her mouth and an arm around her neck. She could feel that she was being dragged backwards and she felt her shoe fall off as her back caught the edge of something and she was dragged up and thrown down onto a hard metallic surface and then whatever it was on the cloth took effect and it all went dark.

-o-o-o-

Floyd helped Spencer back to the bed in the same way they got there. This time it seemed to be a bit quicker. Floyd helped Spencer lay down on the pure white mattress and lay down next to him.

He looked at Reid's puzzled face and ran a finger over his lips. "You really don't remember me do you?"

Spencer shook his head.

"That's OK. You will just have to fall in love with me all over again. I'll enjoy that."

Spencer shook his head again. "No."

And now Floyd looked puzzled. "Well that's a good word you can say, but you need to learn 'yes' too." Floyd put a hand on the back of Reid's head and moved in to kiss that pretty mouth, but Spencer pulled back and lifted a hand to cover Floyd's mouth.

"N n no"

"Y y yes babes." He pushed Reid's hand out of the way and pulled him in closer. It was a deep lip crushing kiss. The taste of Spencer on his mouth was beautiful and he wanted more, but Reid wasn't kissing back. He just lay there and let it be done. This was not going to put Floyd off. Actually it made his stomach twist in knots of desire as he pulled back and looked into those big eyes. "I have to go get something. Wont be long." He left Spencer laying on the mattress and went back to the computer room. He turned on the monitor over looking Reid's bed and turned pressed the record button. He then picked up a pot of pills. He took one and then picked up a bubble strip of different medication. He popped one out and smiled.

Spencer didn't know what to do. Refusing him didn't seem to work. He was afraid to go to far because he knew Floyd would just take what he wanted but take it rougher, but again he wasn't going to just lay and do nothing. He tried to turn over again, but his muscles screamed at him and refused to move as they locked in position cramping and forcing a cry of pain out of Spencer's mouth. He felt the pressure of someone on the mattress next to him again.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts. It will for a while. Open and chew." He slipped the two pills between Reid's lips and sat back watching.

Reid could feel the pain slowly dying away again. At least Floyd was good enough to provide him with that small amount of comfort. It was the grey fog that was drifting over his vision that began to panic him. He shook his head and blinked a few times and tried to move away from Floyd but something was wrong and as he slipped into a drug induced sleep he had a good idea what that was.

Floyd wondered if the feeling he had in his mind was guilt or was it lust? He wasn't sure what it was and really it didn't matter. This brought back such sweet memories of when he first started getting to know Reid 'properly'. He had always been resistant to his ministrations and Floyd had forgotten how good this resistant Spencer had been. Beating him senseless and taking what he wanted was one thing, but taking it like this was so much better. It might be classed as rape. He thought it probably was but that just fuelled Floyd's lust further and that small niggle which might and might not have been guilt was washed over and gone on the first thrust.

-o-o-o-

She could feel a rope being passed under her arms and her feet leaving the ground. She put her hands behind her to stop her back from banging on the wall. Something was over her face so she couldn't see what was going on and her head pounded. She would have screamed if the pain she suddenly felt didn't tip her into unconsciousness. The gentle drip splash sound was comforting. Like a lullaby. He lay back and looked up at it pinned to his wall. Not the most beautiful, but first get the technique correct then go for the major marks.

-o-o-o-

He was woken up by someone shaking him. "Wake up Spence. We have visitors. I want to get you changed into something a bit nicer for them." He pulled Reid up to sit and watched satisfied as Spencer's eyes flicked around the room taking in the changes. There was a tread mill and weights and a big television was up on the wall. Rugs had been put on the floor and there was a big squashy couch.

"Your treats for working so hard yesterday. You made me very happy. Very very happy."

"I – I s s said no."

"Hey a sentence! You are a wonder of modern science babes. I know you what you said. I ignored you. Arms up. I need to strip you."

He just stared up at Floyd and kept his arms at his side. Not that it helped him. Floyd ripped the Tshirt off him anyway and then threw a grey shirt at him.

"Start to put that on."

As he tried to get his arms in his sleeves Floyd watched. As soon as he was done Floyd pushed him backwards onto the bed and pulled his sweatpants off.

"Don't just lay there like a fucking idiot. Do your buttons up. Quickly." Reid just lay and looked at Floyd who was feeding Spencer's feet through the legs of a pair of white boxers. He lay and waited and watched and at the right time just as Floyd moved in a bit closer, Spencer kicked. He used all his strength which admittedly wasn't too much but enough to push Floyd back off balance.

"D d don't t touch me."

Floyd stood up and looked down at the person at his feet. "Pull them up yourself then." He stood with his arms crossed as Spencer slowly pulled them up and covered himself. Floyd now picked up a pair of dark grey cords. "Now these." He took a step in and kicked so hard that Spencer thought he was going to die. "Now you really are a useless prick. Get the fucking clothes on before I have to hurt you again. Now."

Reid couldn't move. He pulled his legs up and put his hands on his groin and rolled over onto his side. The idea of putting clothing on was ridiculous. There was not thought in his head now other than pain. He felt rough hands pulling him onto his back again. He wanted to kick out and push Floyd away but he couldn't move. Floyd dragged him onto the floor and stood above him pulling on the cords and then left him. "Buttons. I am going to get your chair. Get those buttons done before I get back or I will strap you in the fucking thing."

The fear of the confinement of the chair moved Spencer's hands to the shirt. He fumbled and tried but he didn't have the fine motor skills to deal with buttons. Something Floyd was well aware of. Angry tears spilt down the side of his face as he struggled to get his fingers to do what he wanted them to do. He could see Floyd coming back with the chair and his panic made him start to shake. Spencer looked up at Floyd who looked down at him and smiled.

"That is a skill we are going to have to work on." He pulled Reid to his feet and pushed him into the chair.

Spencer struggled and writhed and kicked and lashed out as the straps were gradually put around him keeping him firmly in place. He strapped his arms back again and then his ankles and smiled.

"Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut? Or are you suddenly going to find that you can talk properly?"

"L l let me out." Spencer was still struggling against the bonds and so it was with great reluctance and a big grin that Floyd forced Reid's mouth open and tipped his head back.

"It will relax you. It won't hurt. I would never hurt you." And the liquid drug was squirted down the back of his throat.

* * *


	22. Chapter 22 Memories

Chapter 22

Memories

_The best things in life come in threes, like friends, dreams, and __memories_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He knew what was going on. He just couldn't respond and he didn't know who these people were, but they looked friendly. One of them was tall and dark haired. The other shorted and dark skinned. They looked concerned and the taller one came over and knelt down in front of the chair.

"Does he have to be strapped in so tightly?"

Spencer's stomach turned. It was the voice. The one who had been there all the time he was in the dark. He tried to force his eyes to look at the person but all he could do was stare into nothing. He felt the hand holding his and it felt familiar. He put all the effort he could muster into doing one thing. One small thing to let this person know he knew he was there. All he managed was a slight twitch of the fingers. The man they were calling Hotchner or Hotch didn't take his eyes of Spencer's but he placed his other hand over the top of the one that he managed to move.

"Flanders – I don't like the look of this. Morgan come over here."

Reid could see Morgan moving over now and Floyd standing behind them frowning.

"Hey kiddo." And a kind hand on the side of his face.

"Morgan – does he look drugged to you?"

Derek moved closer and peered into Reid's dead looking eyes. "Flanders what the hell are you playing at?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He stepped in and pulled Morgan back. "Get away now. You've seen him. He is well. You can check his teeth, make sure I haven't knocked any out."

Morgan shrugged Floyd off him as Hotch moved to the back of the chair and started to push it towards the door. "Get out of the way Flanders." Morgan hissed at him.

Floyd stood to the side slightly but took hold of the arm of the chair. "I will report this as abduction. I have done nothing wrong here. Get the health professionals to come and check up on him. Hell I will make the call for you. You can't walk into my home and take him away. I am his legal guardian."

Hotch stopped and turned to Floyd. "He is drugged."

"He is lightly sedated."

"Why? What is the reason?"

"I wanted you to see him well. Not shouting out and writhing in pain. I wanted you to see him relaxed not with his muscles cramped up so ridged he can hardly breathe."

Hotch turned to look at Reid. I want to wait with him and call in a doctor to look at him.

Floyd shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy. Want me to take the straps off? Just don't stand too close though. He kicks."

He moved in and knelt in front of the chair. "Spence – I am going to take some straps off. Spence – look at me. Spencer!" He took Reid's chin and pulled his face around to look at him. "It's OK babes, I'm still here. I am going to release some straps. Make you more comfortable."

Hotch saw a very slight nod from Spencer and Floyd started by removing the straps holding his arms back. Reid reacted quickly to the sudden release and his hands shot out and grabbed Floyd's hair.

Flanders moved back out of the way leaving bits of hair between Reid's fingers. "Shit Spence. Careful babes."

Aaron and Derek wore matching frowns. Hotch moved in. "Let me remove the ankle straps."

Reid could see a new face. It was the one who had the kind voice but now he was saying he wanted to take him from here. And this was the only place he knew. He didn't want this person touching him. He knew that. He knew he mustn't touch him or be touched by him. He wasn't sure why, it seemed like some deep deep memory from somewhere. This man with the kind words was bad.

As Hotch removed the final strap Reid's foot came up and caught him under the chin. He moved back shocked at what had just happened. All that time he had spent with him – talking to him – why was he defending against him.

"Spencer." Hotch stood up. "It's me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Morgan was looking at Floyd who was just watching the situation play out nicely. "He doesn't know who you are. He is far more damaged than you would think."

"He remembers you?" Hotch was looking between the two of them.

"Nu hu – but we are getting to know each other again. Aren't we Spence."

Floyd moved slowly in again. He was just hoping now that Reid would take him as the friendly familiar face now and do what he needed him to do. React in a friendly manner.

He stood in front of the chair. "Spence. Hold my hands and I'll help you out of that contraption and I promise you will never have to go in it again."

Reid was still having a problem with the sedatives in his system. Trying to work out what was going on, but he knew those hands he was putting his into. Those hands helped him. He took hold tightly and slowly Floyd pulled him up to stand. He then wrapped his arms around Spencer to help him keep his balance.

Morgan didn't like this. Floyd had regained control over Spencer even though it had been him who had strapped him into the damned chair in the first place he had made it look like he had rescued him from it.

Hotch's concern was the same, with the added thought that Spencer was not going to recover this time. After all the damage which had been done in the past and all the times they had watched him laying in hospital beds, this time, there was not going to be a happy ending. And it hurt.

"Morgan – if you wouldn't mind moving that thing out of the way so I can get Spence over to the couch." Morgan pulled the chair back and he and Aaron watched as Floyd moved around to behind Spencer and again the hurt in Hotch as he watched Spencer's hands come up and rest over Floyd's. They watched a manoeuvre which had obviously been done before. Just they didn't know that before it had been to get to the toilet. Floyd helped Spencer lower him self into the soft couch.

"I still need to call in someone to check him out. You can't care for him alone. You need help." Hotch looked down at Floyd who had sat himself next to Reid and put an arm around his shoulder. Reid didn't return the gesture. He sat with his hands twisting in his lap. Spencer wasn't happy. He knew he wasn't happy.

"Agent Derek Morgan – would you go and put the coffee on if you are staying for a while. I assume you want to stay until this medical doctor or whoever it is arrives."

Derek nodded. "I'll do that." He looked at Hotch who nodded back as he punched in numbers on his cell phone.

With Derek gone for a while and Hotch distracted on the phone Floyd was able to whisper sweet nothings into Spencer's ear.

"You are doing good babes. You don't want these people to take you do you? You are getting better here with me and I don't think they will give you the same meds that I have been providing. You don't want your muscles to seize up and for those bad headaches to come back do you?"

Reid turned his head and looked at Floyd. "I hate you."

"I know you don't mean that, but look at them! You want to go with those guys?"

"No."

"Then shut your stupid mouth or they will start asking you questions. Just keep your yap shut and I will be able to take all that pain away."

Reid looked away again and down at his hands.

He wasn't completely sure what was going on. He just knew that he was in a situation he would rather not be in but couldn't see a way out. He could see if he could go along with these other, but as Floyd said would they give him what he needed to stop the pain? And there was the fact that this Floyd was actually helping him. Not maybe in the best kindest way but he was helping.

Morgan arrived back in the room with his fingers gripping four mugs of hot coffee. He placed them on a small table and looked over at Hotch who was just getting off the phone.

"Well someone will be here soon." He slipped the phone in his pocket.

Floyd turned to look at him. "And what exactly is this person going to do?"

Hotch walked over to Floyd and Spencer. "Just to see him, talk to him. See if things are going alright and what can be done to help."

"How to get him away from me? Is that what you are after?"

"I want him safe."

They sat in silence. Floyd had by now had enough of Aaron's posturing and bullying and Morgan wasn't saying much at all. No love lost. Spencer turned to Floyd and frowned. He sat studying his profile – looking at the shape of his nose and the way his hair was tucked behind his ear. He watched his mouth and saw how the light picked out his cheekbones. He brought a hand up and ran a finger down the side of Floyd's face. Floyd turned slowly to face him.

Hotch and Morgan saw the gesture too and it put confused expressions on their faces.

"Are you OK babes?"

Spencer's fingers carried on brushing over Floyd's face. There was something dreadfully familiar about it. He felt that he should be happy it was here, but still deep down this was a man he hated. His fingers rested on Floyd's lips. Floyd didn't move….he wanted them to see that Spencer had done this without his encouragement and he knew they didn't like it.

He could smell the hatred pouring out of Morgan and the confusion from Hotch and from Spencer maybe some slight recognition. If he was regaining bits of memory then Floyd really needed to be careful. He reached out and took Spencer's other hand and smiled at him.

"Do you need something?"

A slow shake of the head but he didn't take his eyes off Floyd. When the doorbell rang it was Hotch who moved to let the doctor in.

He was a middle aged man in sweater and jeans. He looked calm and friendly. Floyd stood up to great him.

"Flanders – I am Spencer's partner and next of kin. Any questions you need answered I will be happy to give."

The doctor nodded then looked over to Hotch who gave a quick nod and then to Spencer who was looking back down at his hands again.

"Hello Spencer – I am Dr Stone. I just want to ask you some questions and quickly check you over if that's ok with you."

Reid looked up at him and nodded.

"Good – so can you tell me your name?"

A frown. "Spencer Reid."

Hotch and Morgan both looked totally surprised by Spencer suddenly talking. Floyd however was feeling smugly confident.

"Fantastic Spencer. Do you know where you are?"

Reid looked over at Floyd who just smiled back.

"At home with Floyd."

"Very good Spencer – and these other two gentlemen, do you know who they are?"

A slow shake of the head. "I'm not sure."

"That's fine. I am going to ask you something Spencer and I need you to think carefully about your answer. I don't want you to think you will get into trouble or that any answer is the wrong……………" A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Excuse me." Floyd hissed. "Does he look like a sodding child to you?"

The doctor looked at Floyd.

"Talk to him like an adult or get out. I won't have you humiliate him talking to him like that."

"I need him to understand."

"Yes? Well I need you to understand. Talk to him like that again and I will kick the lot of you out. You are not here by my invitation in the first place. Now talk to him. He's not stupid he's a fucking genius…show some damned respect."

Morgan stood sipping his coffee and took in what was being said. Hotch raised an eyebrow at this suddenly very defensive – in a good way – Floyd.

The Doctor coughed and turned back to Reid.

"Dr Reid. I have been asked to give you a quick check over to see if you are being cared for correctly. There is a set list of questions I need to ask, please don't take any of them personally. Just answer as best you can."

Spencer looked over at Floyd and then nodded.

"Do want to stay living here?"

"Yes."

"Are you getting food and fluids?"

"Yes."

"Are you ever in pain?"

He looked over at Floyd. "Yes." Hotch took a step forward and Morgan's mug was placed down. "But Floyd gives me painkillers."

"Are you in anyway being made to do what you don't want to do?"

Spencer frowned.

"Is Floyd there forcing you to do things?"

Again a hand on the shoulder. "Get out of my house."

"They are questions I need to ask." The doctor turned to look at Floyd again.

"You are asking him if I have been sexually abusing him."

"Well yes I am."

Floyd looked at Spencer who was looking back with big eyes. "Well Spencer tell him….have I been abusing you?"

_Say no or I will have to do what they are suspecting me of._

"N n no"

"Have I been making sure you have everything you need?"

_Drugs and painkillers. Say yes._

"Yes."

"Do you want to go back to the residential home you were in?"

_And not have those magic pills ever again._

"NO!"

"Well I think that you must have all your answers now. You can leave."

-o-o-o-

She'd been drinking. She probably had a bit too much to drink. She took her high heeled shoes off and carried them in one hand and her purse in the other. She didn't hear the person walking quickly behind her. She didn't feel the brick hit her on the back of the head. Her bag and shoes dropped to the floor as she was pulled backwards and into the back of a van. The side door slammed and the engine started. The dark grey van was gone. It took less than two minutes start to finish.

-o-o-o-

Floyd let them out of the house and wished them a good evening.

"Aaron – you are always welcome to visit. I have nothing to hide. Just don't bring the goon next time. Sweet Emily smells so much nicer." He slammed the door before he could get an answer and went back to Spencer.

He flopped down on the couch next to Reid. "So – I have this DVD I thought you might enjoy watching. I'll leave you with it…I need to do stuff on the computer. I don't know how much you remember, so I really don't know if you will remember this." He picked up the remote and pressed 'play'. He then put the remote in Spencer's hand. "Green button to stop it. Yellow to pause. OK?"

A nod.

Floyd went to the office and left Spencer alone to watch Les Enfants du Paradis alone.

He turned pulled up the browser and continued his search for William Reid. He had it down to a few hundred now. He was gradually finding ways to narrow the search. Suspected age and place of birth. Criminal record was the one which made Floyd frown and run his finger over the monitor. Reid William – registered sex offender.

"I have you now you bastard."

-o-o-o-

She made a soft plopping sound as her body hit the tarmac of a small parking area at the side of the road. Popular with hikers and dog walkers. She wasn't quite in rigor yet and he sat and watched her for a short while. Another failure. Eventually he would get it right. There was one waiting for him right now…but losing three in a row was a bit of a bitch. He felt that he would have to make his move soon or it will be too late and the specimen he had his eyes on would be completely the most wondrous item ever. He sighed and watched as a little row of ants made their way towards the body. He drove off again before he saw lights behind him. Couldn't afford any slip ups now.

-o-o-o-

After about half an hour he returned to Spencer. He just stood and watched for a while. Personally he had hated the movie and had probably wrecked it for Spencer, but they'd still had fun. Hadn't they?

Reid looked over at Floyd and smiled. It looked as though he had been crying. He walked over to him and sat down on the couch.

"I remember it."

"What do you remember…The movie?"

"Getting thrown out."

Floyd grinned. "Good – see this is all going to be ok. You trust me don't you?"

A sigh.

"What's wrong?" A hand moved onto Spencer's knee and began a slow crawl upwards.

"Nothing."

"You want to have some fun?"

"No – no I don't. I am tired. My legs ache."

"I'm not going to touch your legs." His hand was deftly undoing the button on the front of Reid's cords.

A hand was placed over Floyd's. "Please – please don't."

He moved his hand away again but took Reid's with it and placed it the front of his own jeans. Spencer snatched his hand away again.

"I don't want that."

"Not even a blow?"

A frown. "No."

"Kiss? Can I have a kiss – I know you are getting to know me again. But you know your memory will come back the more we do."

It as a short kiss – this time it was returned. Spencer moved back and looked at Floyd. "Again."

And it was a deep passionate kiss with hands that stayed firmly above the waistline. Floyd thought he was going to explode with frustration, but this was good - this was damned good. Later he would drug him and fuck his brains out.

"Spencer – there is something I need to tell you."

Reid looked at Floyd who was beginning to feel more and more familiar. "What's wrong?"

"Your dad. He's on the sex offenders register."

Reid leaned forward and vomited onto the rug at his feet.

* * *


	23. Chapter 23 William

Chapter 23

William

_The love of a family is life's greatest blessing_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Spencer had a dream.

It was disjointed and confusing.

In the dream he was in pain. He couldn't see who was doing it, but someone was kicking him. He was curled up on the floor and he was kicked repeatedly on every part of this body that the boots could reach….

It all changed and he was sitting on a chair with cuffs on his hands…..his head hurt and his foot hurt

And it changed again……

He was sitting on chair again but only with his hand nailed to the table.

Again it changed……

And now he was falling….

And now he was being stripped and beaten……..

And now he was being raped……….

When he opened his eyes he could feel someone was holding him. Laying on the bed behind him with his arms wrapped tightly around him. He could feel hot breath on the back of his neck and smell a thick cloying musky smell.

He tried to push the hands away from him but they just held on tighter. He started to crawl away but this person was holding on too tightly. His long fingernails were digging into Spencer's skin and making small popping sounds as they slipped through his skin. He could feel his insides tearing as he was forced onto his front. He screamed as he felt hands holding his hips still and the horrendous pain and something was thrust into him and the smell of blood and sweat and…………..

"Spence!" Someone was shaking him.

He opened his eyes to see Floyd looking down at him and that was all he needed. He kicked and hit and thrashed as Floyd tried to hold him down.

"Stop it for fuck's sake. You were having a nightmare."

"You bastard! You raped me!" Spencer spat in Floyd's face.

He felt it hit his cheek and slowly crawl down his face. Floyd backed away.

"It was a nightmare Spencer. I didn't touch you. I wasn't in even in the same room as you."

"I – I didn't mean – I didn't mean today." He growled back.

"You've wet the bed."

"What?" Reid pushed himself up to sit. "Oh god." He manoeuvred himself off the mattress and looked up at Floyd. "Are you going to help me?"

"Nope – figure I will leave it for you to sort out. You don't want a rapist touching you do you?"

He turned to get onto his hands and knees and felt hot tears running down his face.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you Spence." Floyd stood back with his hands at his side and his head cocked slightly.

"Do what?" Snapped back.

"Present your sweet arse to me. You know – seeing as I am such a bad person."

Reid turned his head to see the smirk on Floyd's face. "I'm sorry OK. I had a bad dream. I was confused. Now help me – please."

Floyd shook his head. "I think I will leave you to it. I wanted to go out tonight."

"Yes go – leave me – I will be fine." Spencer turned over again so he was sitting. "Don't just stand there and look at me…Help me or go away."

Floyd nodded. "I will get you something to wear and then I am going out for a while."

"I need a shower."

Floyd carried on just standing looking. "Yes you do – but again I'm not helping you. There's one upstairs if you want it. I should have let the others have you. You ungrateful bastard."

Spencer sighed. "Well can I have some clean clothes then?"

"No – actually fuck you. I've done all this for you and you throw it back in my face. Sort yourself out Spencer Reid. I'll be back later."

He left the room and slammed the door behind him. "Let him see how much he needs me. The little freak."

-o-o-o-

He sat in his van watching for a while and then got out and started to follow. He could see his mark and very pretty it was too. It would look fabulous and he had the place set up ready. Enough practice now, he was putting the project at risk by taking so long sorting it all. But now…now he could see what he wanted.

Today though – not today – today he was going to stand back and watch and look at the walk and the face as the light hit that profile and yes he knew for sure this was the prettiest one. This was the one he had been waiting all this time for.

-o-o-o-

Floyd went to the bar and ordered a drink. It didn't have the same appeal without Spencer at his side. He felt like part of him was missing. He needed Spencer back as he was before all this shit. He wanted the Spence who would kneel at his feet and kiss every part of his body and worship the ground he walked on and the Spencer he had left behind tonight wasn't that person. He needed to do something to bring him back…A big good jolt of the memory, like the kiss, like the movie.

He left the bar and walked down the ally way to get some fun. He found it in a lad with dark hair and a big happy smile.

He made his decision…as soon as this kid had finished doing what he was doing he was going to get Spencer a present. Maybe he will even help him unwrap it. The thought brought a smile to his lips. "Ah the good old days." He looked down at the boy who was probably only about fourteen and stroked his head gently. "You're good for a kid. I might come back for more. Go now. I have business to attend to." The boy stood up and walked away without even looking back.

Floyd made his way to his SUV and drove the couple of hours it was going to take him to get to Fishmarket Street.

-o-o-o-

Spencer crawled his way to the couch and slowly using the back as support pulled himself to his feet. He felt strange and wobbly and light headed. He stood for a while and took deep breaths. He was going to do this. He was going to show them all he could do this. He didn't need to rely on Floyd or the others. He could do this himself.

He took tiny uneven steps. He felt like a colt taking his first steps. His head carried on spinning and his balance was off. The floor seemed to be in the wrong place. "I'm never going to make it upstairs to the shower." He decided that at least he could try for the toilet. There was a wash basin. He could wash.

-o-o-o-

He parked in the street and sat for a while. It was the early hours of the morning. He had to get in and do this and get back for Spencer. He had left him awake this time…maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe he was phoning Hotchner now and asking him to get him. Maybe – but hardly probable as he had locked the door Spencer's room. He wouldn't be able to get up to the shower anyway. Floyd wanted to check in…have a probe around Reid's mind and see what he was doing, but all energy was concentrated at the house he was looking at with it's big dark windows and neat flower beds out front.

Floyd wasn't completely sure what he was going to do once he met this person….but he had a pretty good idea. He got out of the car and stood watching for a while – taking in the smells of the area. He ran his hands over the front of his jeans and walked quickly up to the front door. There was a brass coloured door bell. He looked down at his hands. He was in leather fingerless gloves. He smiled and lifted a finger to the doorbell. It made a small buzzing sound. He took his finger off and stood back to see if it got a result. Which it didn't. He laced his fingers together and bent them back until they cracked and then ran his hand over the door lock. He heard the satisfying click of the lock. If there was a bolt of chain he would be able to break past them. Stupid man. Stupid for nearly thirty years. Floyd opened the door and walked into the dark hallway. He closed the door behind him carefully. No point in alerting the scum before necessary.

He crouched and felt the floor. Nothing just the gentle hum of the power humming through the house. He stood again and took in a deep breath. The person he was after was upstairs. He could smell the sickness in the man's soul.

Floyd did wonder briefly if he had the right person, but it didn't really matter. This was the bastard who tried to stop Spencer seeing him after school. This was the bastard who spoiled his fun. He walked slowly up the carpeted stairs. One of them let out a small squeak and he stood still to see if it awoke his victim, but it didn't and so he started his climb again.

On the landing at the top of the stairs there was a small light on. Floyd reached over and pulled the small cord to turn it off. He stood in the darkness and smiled.

Three doors. One of them open to the bathroom. The other two closed. He walked to the first one and listened. Nothing. He walked to the next. Breathing. Two sets of breaths. He closed his eyes and thought about what to do next. He had to be careful. Controlling two people wouldn't be as easy. He placed his fingers on the door handle and slowly turned it. It made a small click. Again Floyd froze and waited and again there was nothing. He pushed the door open carefully and looked.

Two sleeping forms. A woman and a man. The woman was a bleached blonde, the man once dark haired but beginning to grey. They lay on their sides with their backs to each other. Floyd still wasn't sure he had the right person, but didn't care now. He would do this anyway. He walked to the side of the bed with the woman and looked down at her. Took much makeup smudged by sleep. Maybe once she had been OK looking, but by the looks of things smoking and drinking had spoiled those looks long ago.

He reached down and quickly a hand on the head and a hand on the shoulder and a quick twist. She made a small sigh as she died and that was all. He stood back and looked at her. Somehow she looked more desirable now. One step in and he bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

Moving around to the other side of the bed now and he could see the face of William Reid. A face he well remembered. A face he would have gladly stomped way back but didn't know then what he knew then. He was still getting to know Spencer back then. He crouched down and just looked at the sleeping face for a while and then reached out and put a hand on the bony shoulder showing outside the covers.

"William Reid?" He hissed.

He saw the eyes open and then he saw the shock register.

"Who the hell are you? Get out!" He moved a hand to awaken the woman he was with.

"Are you William Reid? Once married to Diana, a son called Spencer? She won't wake up, so forget her and look at me. What I have to say is very important and is kind of life or death. Understand me?"

William Reid nodded and Floyd smiled.

"You don't remember me do you?"

A shake of the head.

"Well I'm not surprised really – not that I've changed all that much. Anyway – I wasn't around long before you left."

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to ask you some questions – and believe me – I have a sort of inbuilt lie detector and I will know if you are telling me the truth."

"Couldn't you have come to see me like normal people do? Are you the kid with the bike who used to watch Spencer?"

"Ah so you do remember me. Good – that's good. I am Floyd and I am still watching Spencer, only now I fuck him too. Which brings me onto the next topic….Did you abuse my Spence?"

William Reid tried to get out of the bed but Floyd pushed him back again. "What – what makes you say such a thing?"

"Because something happened to that boy – someone did something to him and as you are on the sex offenders register – well it seems to fit nicely."

"Christ! Are you insane? I am on that list. I was caught with a prostitute. I never touched Spencer!" Again he tried to get out of the bed but Floyd put a firm hand on William's chest.

"Liar. Try again."

"Underage prostitute, but how the hell was I mean to know?"

"Liar!"

"Fine, I suspected, but didn't know for sure."

"LIAR!"

"That's the truth!"

"Yes – but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the kid you molested."

A shake of the head. "That was never proven. I didn't do that."

"Liar – look William, I am getting very bored with you. Just tell me the truth and it won't hurt so much."

"It was an accident. Anyway, what the hell has that got to do with Spencer?"

"Well I just needed to know how much of a total bastard you were. Did you fuck Spencer?"

William's face blanched.

"Well did you?"

William swallowed.

"Well that's good. That's fine. You broke him in nicely for me, but you know what? I don't like people touching Spencer unless I give them permission and I don't remember giving you permission and so you need to ask – now."

"Ask?"

"Ask me. 'Please Floyd how many dollars to fuck my son?' That will do and I will give you an answer and it will be done and dusted."

"You are completely mad."

"I am." Floyd smiled at William. "Get out of bed."

"What are you going to do?"

"Play with you. I am going to kill you slowly and then I am going to fuck you and then I am going to rip your balls off with my teeth and stuff them in your mouth."

-o-o-o-

The call came in early.

The team sat around the table and looked at the pictures in front of them.

"Each victim was found in a very different surrounding, but all in the same area. Three females. Tall a female average. They were all around five foot ten and average build. Hair colour, eye colour, different and as far as we can tell nothing to connect them." The liaison was saying.

"And so we know they are connected how?" Morgan was hugging a mug of coffee.

"Puncture wounds….though not identical, similar enough. Each victim has been impaled. Under the shoulder blades and above the hips. These are the main wounds….Coroner has also said that there are smaller puncture wounds along the arms and upper legs and the feet. It looks like they were nailed to something. One of them." She slid a picture over the table. "Bled out. The other two died of fatal wounds to the chest. The latest one is the one who bled out."

-o-o-o-

He got the board ready. He had painted it deep red. He had attached chains to the corners. Big shiny silver chains. To the side he had a pile of big shiny stakes and a mallet. He tested the chains and rubbed his hands together smiling. Soon. Very soon.

-o-o-o-

He made it. All the way there, slowly – painfully, but he was there. He ran the water into the basin and removed his clothing. There was nothing to change into but there was a throw over the back of the couch and maybe in the rest of the house. His legs hurt and Floyd wasn't there to give him any meds. He bit on his bottom lip and tried to decide what to do.

Again it was a slow journey but he managed to get back to the couch. He lay down on it and pulled the throw over himself. Spencer picked up the remote control and pressed play. He lay and watched the movie again. More and more memories flooding through his mind and he just let the sounds and pictures float through his brain.

It must have been quite a few hours later when he heard the front door open. He flicked off the movie and looked over at the door. Soon very soon more meds. He could feel the tightness across his shoulders and his feet and hand were spasming and cramping – even his neck ached. He could hear movement coming towards the door and something thumping to the floor.

-o-o-o-

He dumped Williams body on the floor and turned as he heard sudden movement behind him. His first thought was that it was Spencer but as he turned to smile it became obvious this wasn't Spencer.

It hit him in his neck stopping any noise he might have made. Blood sprayed up the wall and over the door. His eyes went big with the shock and his hands moved up to the spike shot at him from the cross bow. He could see the smile on the face of the person with the bow and he took a step towards him with the purpose of ripping his heart out, but something was wrong. He was on his knees with a grey fog creeping around his eyes. Again his hands moved to the bolt in his neck – but the guy was behind him now pushing him to the floor and putting flexcuffs on his wrists. He looked down at the plastic covered bundle Floyd had carried in with him and pulled. William Reid's body flopped out onto the floor. The Blood which had colleted inside the plastic poured out onto the hardwood flooring.

He wrapped Floyd in the plastic and picked him up – leaving the same way he had come in. Closing the door silently behind him.

-o-o-o-

Reid managed a fairly quick crawl to the door and pulled himself up. He tired the handle but the door had been locked. Floyd never had any intention of letting Spencer use the shower. He hammered on the door for a while.

"Floyd what are you doing. I need some painkillers!" and as his feet cramped again he slid down the door and sat wondering where the hell he had gone.

It was now that he saw a small trickle of blood seeping under the door.

* * *


	24. Chapter 24 Spikes and Cramps

Chapter 24

Spikes and Cramps

_We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey__: - __Kenji Miyazawa _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

Spencer sat and watched the small bit of blood slowly crawl under the door. For a minute it mesmerised him and then the panic set in. He got to his knees and turned to the door. "Floyd! What's going on?!"

He started hammering on the door with his fists. "Open the door. Floyd!"

There was nothing. Not a squeak or a movement. Total silence. The blood had gathered into a small puddle at the edge of the door. Spencer moved back so it wouldn't touch him and stared at it and then at the door and listened to the silence. "Floyd?"

And so he crouched half naked looking at the door. His muscles slowly tightening and his head getting too hot and too foggy.

The sight of the blood was making him feel sick. He turned away and started a slow painful crawl back to the couch. He was about half way there when his body finally took control and every muscle in his body became taut. He couldn't even open his mouth to scream away some of the pain as his jaw clamped shut and his head was thrown back and his breathing became short and shallow.

-o-o-o-

He dragged his prize possession into the big room out back. He really hoped he hadn't bled out and died on him…or suffocated under the plastic, but he really didn't think so…and right now the excitement of having what he had needed for so long was too much to be thinking of if it was dead. It would be eventually anyway….but to have it wriggling for a while – It made his head swim with pleasure.

He threw the package on the floor. It sort of made a nice splatting sound. He grabbed the edge of the plastic sheeting and pulled hard. Floyd rolled out onto the concrete floor.

The guy rolled him over onto his back and hand a closer look at him. The chest was still rising and falling slowly and the eyes were closed. He licked his lips and leaned over him jabbing him hard in the ribs with his booted foot. No response but never can be too careful. He went to a shelf and took down a syringe and a phial of something with a slight yellow colouring to it. He drew an amount up into the syringe and went back to Floyd. He pushed Floyd's head to the side and stabbed the needle into the side of his neck and depressed the plunger. Maybe too much? Not that it mattered. He hadn't meant to get him in the neck like that – it was amazing he was still alive, but displayed with that bolt in his neck would be better than he dreamed of. Firstly though..clean him up.

He pulled off the boots and lay them carefully to one side and then unbuckled Floyds belt and un-buttoned the button fly on his jeans. He went to the feet end again and pulled hard. He stood for a while just looking at what he had revealed. Again he licked his lips and smiled. He was going to enjoy washing this one. He didn't look very clean…but a very nice specimen.

The next thing was the shirt. He untied the front and then undid the buttons. Floyd's jacket was already undone. He went behind him and pulled him up slightly by his hair. Very dirty hair. And dragged the jacket and shirt off.

He was struck by how pale Floyd's skin was and so unblemished. Not a mark on it. Except where he had shot him in the neck and kicked him in the ribs…but that wouldn't show once he was redressed and prepared. He moved the clothing right out of the way and dropped the lot including boots into a bin bag and tied it tightly shut.

"Now Floyd – it is Floyd isn't it? I'm sure that's what I heard them call you, well this is going to be very cold. I'm sorry for that, but I do like my work to be clean."

He picked up a small bottle and walked over to Floyd pouring it over his body and hair. He dropped the plastic bottle and picked up the end of a yellow hose.

Floyd got very wet. As he hosed him down with one hand he used a long handled brush to get the dirt off. It took about half an hour of scrubbing and hosing back and front and washing the hair to get him as he wanted. He watched the water slowly trickle away and then started the drying process.

-o-o-o-

When the cramps subsided slightly be tried to move off the floor and over to the couch. Pain shot through him like he was crawling on glass. His hand shook and his arms trembled with the effort of moving. He could taste blood in his mouth and his tongue was swollen. He spat blood onot the floor and remembered the blood seeping under the door. He glanced back at the door. The puddle hadn't got any bigger. In one way he wanted to go back and find out what was going on, but then that couch was looking inviting and so he carried on the way he was going. Sweat dripping slowly from his brow and dropping onto the rugs he was now crawling across.

Spencer finally reached the couch and no didn't have the strength to climb on it. He lay curled up on the floor. Just for a little while…just to get some strength back…Just for a few minutes.

As his body started to shake and his muscles began to tighten again this time with greater intensity he just lay and let the tears fall and gratefully slipped into a nice dark place for a while.

How long later he didn't know but he awoke cold and wet. He was sweating and shaking and had an over riding need to get his hands on some of Floyds pills. He pulled the throw off the back of the couch and pulled it around his shoulders and sat shaking and trying to take in deeper breaths. He had to try to think. If that was Floyd's blood – how can he find out if that is his or someone else? He glanced back over to the door. The thought of trying to get back over there again made grind his teeth and bite on his bottom lip. He was also very thirsty and the wash basin was over by the door. He could do both at the same time….though he still didn't know what he was going to do about the blood.

Spencer tried to get to his feet, but his toes and ankles hand locked now and there was no way he cold stand. He looked at his hands and flexed his fingers. They hurt. It felt as though someone had been stamping on them. He placed them on the floor and immediately cried out in pain. The shock sent spasms of agony up his arms and across his shoulders. He sat back on the floor moaning softly and wondering how the hell he was going to get to the water now.

He tried again. This time he lay on his stomach and tried to move slowly and carefully putting the weight on his forearms. He managed a few feet before he realised that this wasn't going to work either.

Spencer rolled over onto his side with his legs pulled up hard and close to him – his hands were tucked up under his chin and this time he gave over to a full blown seizure.

-o-o-o-

They had nothing. They went to the crime scenes. They went to the places they suspected they had been snatched from and all they could tell was that they didn't go willingly. Dropped bags and shoes and drag marks made that obvious but the UnSub had been careful not to be near security cameras. Either through luck of through careful observation.

The dump sites the same. No security cameras and always on firm ground. No trace of tyre marks or cigarette butts. Nothing.

The bodies had been cleaned and redressed. The skin smelt of soap and the hair was clean and brushed. They had all had make up applied and they had all had their eyes glued open.

-o-o-o-

He dragged Floyd away from the damp concrete and onto a rubber mat. He now started to redress him. He wiped off any dirt from the clothing and polished the boots. He emptied out all the pockets and slowly and very lovingly pulled the clothes back on him.

He stuck another needle in the side of his neck, afraid that this one might awaken too early. He inspected the bolt in the neck and wondered if he should remove it, but it wasn't bleeding and it looked wicked and so he left it as it was.

The UnSub thought about using a chemical on him to keep the flies away but it would make him smell funny and he had such a wonderful smell. Once dressed he filed the fingernails and cleaned his teeth. He brushed his hair and satisfied with the job he dragged him to the board he had readied earlier.

He placed the still not moving Floyd onto the board and moved him into the correct position.

He crossed his ankles and put one hand at his side and the other laying over his bare stomach. He hadn't known what he was going to be wearing and the bit of bare flesh was a very nice added extra. He wasn't sure if this was going to be a bit too damaging though…but now to start.

The fist big spike went in just below the clavicle and out of his back and into the board. The next spike went in the other side. The spikes had threads on the top and to these he screwed a large flat metal pad to stop the spike going all the way through. He put a metal 'U' shaped spike around his neck and hammered it in carefully. He didn't want to dislodge the bolt at this point.

He moved carefully around Floyd's still form. He made sure the ankles were crossed correctly and then held them in place by hammering in a 'U' shaped spike. He took another plain spike with hook on the end and bashed it through his ankles and into the back board. He heard a satisfying crunch as it shattered its way through bone and cartilage. For the next bit he felt carefully down Floyd's side. He needed to do this right or he would be dead before he got finished. He found the place just above the hips. One either side. These spikes had rings in the top of them. Now he looked at where he had placed the arm and carefully pushed it out of the way and felt Floyd's abdomen. With a smile he replaced the hand and drove a spike through it and Floyd until it entered the board he was laying on. This spike had a large 'X' shape on the top of his to stop Floyd from pulling his hand off. The other hand was staked through keeping it at his side. Another 'X' shape on the top of it.

He now moved to the side of the board and threaded shiny chains through the rings at Floyd hips. Other chains were passed over him and attached to the other side holding Floyd tightly in position.

Next he brushed his hair carefully and then stood looking at the face. He wondered if he needed to put some make up on him…but decided that actually he was pretty enough without having to hi-light anything. This was beautiful.

The eyes though. He needed to sort out the eyes.

-o-o-o-

When he woke up again he realised he had been drooling. He went to move his hand to wipe it off. The former easy movement had was now gone. He had to think about each movement he made. He couldn't straighten his limbs and his neck hurt. It felt as though someone had been jumping on his stomach and even his eyes hurt. Spencer tried to flex his fingers but they were cramped firmly into position. He needed Floyd and he needed him now. He stared to try to get to the door again. Slowly and very painfully. He bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted blood in an attempt to stop the tears coming again. He couldn't afford to lose moisture that way.

It took him a long time. Then he had to decide: door or water. There might be someone there now – then again there might not be and he needed water – desperately needed water. He decided on the water hoping it would help his body relax and then he could try for the door. And so it was to the washbasin he made his painful half crawl half slither to. Again he had no idea how long it took. His elbows had started to bleed from dragging himself over the floor but now he was nearly there. He could almost smell the water he was so close.

He could feel it coming. First his head started to pound. Then he got a nosebleed. The pains shot through his shoulders and hips. His hands went into paroxysms of pure unadulterated pain. He lay on his back and tried to scream as the pains shot through his body. Blood dripped down the back of this throat making him choke. Slowly he managed to get onto his side as he began to shake and sweat. He vomited, but it was just the blood he had just taken down coming up again in pink bubbles.

The throw he had tried to preserve some of his dignity with was long gone and so he curled up next to the washbasin and waited for the pains to stop so he could again try to get water. He could feel the blood from his nose dripped down the side of his face and forming a small pool where his cheek met the floor. It reminded him of something.

Spencer closed his eyes and let the new images shoot through his mind. Some of them were him. As though he was looking at himself through someone else's eyes and he was standing or sitting or laying bloodied and bruised.

Some of the images which came to him were Floyd standing or sitting with blood dripping from his nose. He watched him wipe the blood off his face and then with a smile lick the back of his hand clean.

-o-o-o-

Using a small applicator he gently put a couple of drops of glue on each eye lid and then gently opened Floyd's eyes for him and held them in place until the glue held.

He stepped back and looked at the job so far and he smiled.

"Pretty. Very pretty." He stepped forwards again and stroked the sleeping face. "You will wake up soon."

The man walked to the wall and began to wind up the chains. The tipped the board Floyd was impaled onto into an upright position. He hooked the chains into place and with the mallet in his hand returned to Floyd. He walked behind him and checked all the spikes had come through the back of the board as they should. He then hammered each one over so they wouldn't just slide out again. It took a while and a lot of effort. He hadn't got any cheep of rubbish for this. It was during the smacking of the spike going through his left hip that he heard Floyd moaning.

He paused. Should he drug him again or should he carry on. The thought that this Floyd person would feel this was a bit too much. He stood and took deep breaths trying to get his mind back on the job. He as sure he wouldn't be able to escape now, but the quicker the better.

The moans suddenly turned into screams of rage. He could feel the board shaking as he hammered down the spikes holding his feet in place. He couldn't hear the words – there were words but the howling screams of pain garbled them somehow.

Job done the man walked around to the front of the board. He stood and watched his victim until it stopped for a while and looked back.

"Hi. How's it feeling?"

"Who the fuck are you? What the hell have you done?"

"Just prepared you. Don't be such a potty mouth or I will glue that too."

"Get me off this fucking thing now you insane bastard. Get me off before I pull these sodding things off and eat you alive you stupid bastard!"

He didn't want to do this, but really he deserved it. He didn't want to hit him where it would show and so the crunching smack in the groin with the mallet did a good job. It made him scream again. Though he wasn't totally sure if it was rage or pain – either way that was fine. Either way he would learn.

"Now you will shut up and behave. Or I will stop being so nice to you. Are you ready for this? I'd take a deep breath if I was you, it might hurt."

He moved backwards away from Floyd watching him try to pull the spikes out. "Get me the fuck off this thing you stupid retarded son of a whore!"

And the man had been right. It did hurt. He slowly cranked the handles again…and the board slowly lifted from the ground. It kept going up until the top touched the ceiling and then pulling on the other chains it swung it around so Floyd was with his back to the ceiling looking down at the floor. He secured the chains and looked at his handy work.

"Looking good from down here Floyd."

Floyd stared back at the man. He couldn't blink he could just watch. He could feel all the spikes pulling and the chains digging in but he was held firmly. His hair fell down either side of his face like a dark curtain and his now quite pale face was hi-lighted by the contrast.

"I'll fucking kill you!" He screamed as he watched this man who had got the better of him pull another board over. This one he lay directly under Floyd. The foot long metal spikes glinted in the overhead lighting.

"You can try. But first you have to get down off there and to do that you have to get down here somehow – without landing on this. I warn you…don't pull too hard Floyd…if you fall you are definitely going to be dead. I will leave you to settle in for a bit. You don't mind if I turn off the lights do you?"

* * *


	25. Chapter 25 Plans

Chapter 25

Plans

_Pain is important; how we evade it, how we succumb to it, how we dea__l with it, how we transcend it: - __Audre Lorde_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Floyd is.

* * *

"The soap used on the victims was the same brand each time. It's not an uncommon brand unfortunately but the scent the UnSub has chosen is a limited edition and so only a fifteen stores in the area sell it. Which is less than the five hundred or so stores which stock this brand. He had also painted the nails with and applied lipstick. The brands used there are not widely available and so we are cross referencing them with the liquid soaps to see if we get a match anywhere. So far that's all we have. A few bits were stuck to the clothing of victim number two. They are what seems to be small splinters of wood. We are looking into that as there as also bits of wood found in one of the other victims wounds."

Hotch nodded and put the file down in front of him. "Split and go to these places then. Find out if they remember anything at all. This person must have purchased more than one lot of this soap, maybe not on the same day."

The team got up from the round table with the lists of places in front of them and went to talk to the shop workers.

Hotch and the new media liaison Jimmy Duckworth went to location one. They had small supplies still of the soap but didn't stock the make up. Yes they could check when someone last purchased the soap. It will take a while. Would they like to come back? A card was handed over. "Call when you can give me a list of dates for the last three purchases."

Morgan was with Prentiss.

They too asked about the soap and makeup. Yes they stocked both. Not sure if anyone had purchased both. Will have to check up on the computer. Very inconvenient – but the shop owner brought up the records for them and stood rubbing his chin.

"You know I do remember this. It was a guy buying makeup or his girlfriend. He wasn't sure what to get. Hang on there I will get my sister – she helped him out."

Morgan flashed a smile and Emily twitched her mouth a bit. "Do you think this might be the place? It's right on the edge of the comfort zone."

Derek nodded. "That might be good. If they remember anything and if it was the right guy."

The woman came back and smiled at them. "You want to know about the guy who got the lipstick for his girlfriend?"

Emily nodded. "Yes please – anything you can remember."

"Well it was odd. I asked what her complexion was like, and he said it was average, which is a silly answer…Well I asked what colour hair she has and said he hadn't decided yet and wanted something that any hair colour would match."

She walked over to the makeup display and picked one of the sticks of lipstick up. "I advised this one. Pearly Peach." She handed it to Emily. "He got some of the special soap too. Christmas pine." She walked over and picked up a bottle and handed that to Emily too.

"Can you remember what he looked like?" Morgan took the things from Emily and put them in a bag to take back with them.

"Well he was quite tall, I'd say just short of six foot. Average build, short brown hair going thin at the front. Probably in his early forties. He smelt funny. Trying to think what it was." She stood staring off for a while trying to recall the smell. "Sawdust. That's what it was…he smelt like he worked with wood, but not trees. You know what I mean?"

Emily nodded. "Anything else you can remember?"

She shook her head. "Oh just the van. He drove a dark van. Not sure of the colour…but it was dark. One of those with the side opening door. Sorry I have no idea of the make or anything – but if he comes back I will contact you?"

"You are expecting him back?" Morgan asked.

"Well I don't know, but he loves that soap – he's had four lots of it now."

"Four? Are you sure it is four?"

"Very sure – but only the make up the once. I didn't ever ask about the girlfriend."

"So you would recognise him if you saw him again?"

She nodded.

"Would you be willing to talk to a police sketch artist and see if we can get a picture of him?" Still Morgan.

A voice behind them made them all turn. "I can do better than that. We have security cameras. You are welcome to go though the tapes. The computer has registered the times those things were purchased so it shouldn't be too hard to work it out." The shop owner handed over the tapes.

Emily took them and nodded a thank you. "If he comes back. Don't worry. Let him make his purchase. If he has a van try to see what make it is maybe, but don't give him cause to think you are watching him."

They left in a hurry – Morgan's phone at his ear, letting Hotch know what they had.

-o-o-o-

Spencer awoke not sure where he was. It felt as though his eyes were swollen. He put his hands to his face to rub his eyes but his fingers were cramped into position. He squinted at them through eyes that felt sticky when he blinked and tried again to remember where he was and what was going on. All he could remember was pain. His brain refused to let him see beyond that and the need for water.

Reid had no idea how long he had been here now, he had no idea where here was anymore, just that he needed to get water as soon as he could. He had stopped sweating now and his skin felt dry and itchy. He looked up at the washbasin and then rolled over onto his stomach with the intention of getting to his knees and reaching the taps. The movement onto his front brought on a whole new world of pain. He lay still trying to get his breathing back under control and to stop the panicky little gulps he was taking. Slowly with tears in his eyes and trying to ignore the way that every movement brought fresh pains across his body he pushed himself up onto his elbows. His head hung down between his shaking arms and again the tried to get his breathing back under control. He needed to get oxygen to his body and this wasn't helping his thought processes.

He moved slightly so all his weight was on his left forearm. A small cry of pain escaped his dry cracked lips. His tongue still chewed and swollen from earlier quickly licked his lips but there was no moisture there, it was more of a nervous habit. Now he moved his right arm up and tried to grip the edge of the small washbasin but his hand refused to cooperate and he couldn't grip on the shiny surface. With a frustrated sigh he let his hand fall again. He needed to kneel and doing that here just wasn't going to work. He needed to move forwards slightly so he had the wall to push against and so carefully he moved forward again. He didn't have to go far but it seemed to take an eternity. Every movement he had to concentrate on making – on finding the right muscle to use and then forcing it to do what he asked it. Some signals were just not going where they should and he was sure there was something wrong with his ankles. He couldn't remember breaking them, but right now he couldn't remember much, but it felt as though the bones had been smashed. He could feel the bits of bone rubbing against each other.

Spencer dragged his body forward until he was against the wall. He lay there unmoving trying to work out how he was going to get up to the water which was so close yet just out of reach. He closed his eyes to visualise what he was going to do next and fell into a deep feverish sleep.

He had more vivid dreams…these were about a small child with too many teeth and strange child's make up on her face. It had run and the red lipstick was dripping off her chin. Even though she had a somewhat creepy face she seemed to like him and he seemed to like her. He had a feeling as they walked through the woods that they were being watched by someone. He could smell cigarette smoke. He held the child's hand in his right hand and in his left he carried a baseball bat.

Spencer now seemed to be watching himself – maybe from the perspective of the person he thought was watching him. He smell of smoke was stronger as was the smell of whiskey. He crouched down and watched himself and the child walk by him. He smiled and then looked down at his feet. In Spencer's dream he became confused. They were Floyd's boots. Why was he wearing them? And who was the child?

-o-o-o-

Floyd tugged gently on the thing going through his hand. He considered his options here. He was well secured. He knew that much and so he could attempt to charm his way out of this or just rip himself off and then there were the spike and the thing. And he tested the 'thing' holding his neck in place and what the hell was wrong with his neck anyway. He moved his chin up and down and his head side to side. There was that thing still in his neck. The arse hadn't removed it.

There were angles to be considered too. He could maybe get out of his top half and swing around. But there now was the problem that he couldn't move his feet and his other hand was spiked through his stomach.

"I'll have to talk my way out of this one." He muttered to himself.

And so he rested up and waited. He was desperate to blink and it was really bugging him that he couldn't close his eyes. Healing was so much easier if he could and he was sure there was some damage here he could quickly sort and Spence.

"Shit Spence. Crap. He'll be fine. Bollocks I didn't leave him any meds. Stupid fucker you are Floyd! Bastard. I didn't know this was going to happen. Shit fuck crap. Where are you – you dogs varpa! Get your arse in here and explain yourself!" He was shouting and spitting and drooling and getting hair stuck to his face and in his mouth and he spat more and shouted and swore and complained until he thought his throat was going to bleed. It wasn't until he finally shut up and just hung there pinned to the ceiling that the man returned.

"You quite finished now?" He didn't even look up at Floyd who was straining and spitting in the direction of the man with the thinning brown hair.

"We need to talk."

"No – you need to shut up. You are going to spoil everything."

"What do you want? I can give you anything – you want money – you can have money – just let me down offa here."

The man pulled over a reclining chair and placed it next to the spiked board. "Fine – lets talk. I will just rest here and you say what it is you need to say – Floyd isn't it – I'm James."

"James – James – and good strong name. It suits you." _'fucking fucker I am going to fucking eat you.'_

"It's a family name. It was my fathers and his before him."

"Nice, yes very nice."

"And yours Floyd. Where does that come from?" He was laying back with his hands behind his head looking at his display.

"I chose it myself. It's not my real name you see and so yeah, I chose this. It means nothing really – emotionally it means nothing and has no connection with anything or anyone except I liked it at the time."

"And so what is your real name."

'_Mind your own fucking business.'_ "Ghu'h Da'q. My friends called me Ghu. Now that – yes that is a family name."

"Where's that from then – Ghu? That's not a normal name."

"Not like James or Floyd – no it's a bit different from that."

"You said they 'called' you that – they don't anymore?"

"No – no they are all dead or far away. Mostly dead. – yep I think most of those I would have called 'friends' are dead."

Floyd spat some hair out of his mouth again.

"So Floyd – do you have family? Family that's not dead?"

"Why did you do this to my eyes?"

"That wasn't what I asked. Do you or do you not have family?"

"Why? What do you need to know that for?"

"I thought we were becoming friends. Who were you returning home to?"

"No one."

"Well I'm off for a while. Take care Floyd. I will be back in the morning."

"Wait - wait come back." But the door slammed behind him and then the lights dimmed. "Come back! I need to talk to you!"

Darkness. Not really a big problem. Not complete darkness...still enough to see what he was doing. What his problem was that Reid was there alone with no meds or food and no way to get out of that room…with his dead mutilated father the other side of the door. That was the problem.

Now to try to get out of this crap. He started with the neck but it seemed pretty sure that it wasn't going to budge. He could just about make out his hands. Now they are fixable. He took a deep breath and again looked at his right hand which was fixed directly to the board. Floyd really would have liked to have closed his eyes and prepared for this. He knew it would hurt. He bit on his bottom lip for a little while and then clamped his jaw tightly together – took a deep breath and ripped his hand off the board.

He screamed.

Floyd had no idea if James was still in the building. If he was he would have heard that, but he didn't return.

He looked at his hand. Part of it was still on the board – but his thumb and the next two fingers where still on his hand.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck that hurt." He put the broken hand up to his face and licked off the blood. His teeth catching on the bits of bone where his fingers used to be. He held his hand closely for a while trying to make the pain go away. Trying to make his breathing start again. He was sure it must have been half an hour since he last took a breath. He knew now that whatever he did next was going to hurt.

While he tried to do something for his hand he started to try to get his feet free. The problem was that there was a spike through his ankles which he was sure were broken and there was a loop too. He would just end up ripping his feet off and that would solve nothing. He decided he needed his other hand. He looked down at it and then held his ripped hand up to his face and wiggled his fingers. He put the torn part of his hand to his mouth and gripped tightly with his teeth.

He didn't hold onto his right hand for long. He opened his mouth and let out a long howling scream. Again part of his hand had been left behind but only the little finger this time. The rest was in tact. He pulled away the bits of him he had lost and let them drop to the floor. Now he needed to get the spike out of his stomach. This he wasn't sure how to do just yet and so he put his newly mutilated hand to his mouth and licked it clean and considered what to do next.

-o-o-o-

Sudden pain in his hands woke him up again. He slowly moved them to his face. Apart from being unable to move them they looked OK – but the pain was unbelievable. He glanced up at the washbasin again and tried to work out how to get there. After much wriggling and yelping in pain and stopping to take breaths he kept forgetting to take he was sort of sitting facing the wall leaning inwards with his forehead on the wall. He was still too low down to reach the taps though. He shouted out in frustration of being so close to what he needed and not being able to get it.

Again he moved and wriggled and took time to wipe tears from his eyes and then dragged his legs so that at last he was kneeling. The shooting pains lashing through his body were trying to make him throw up again, but he closed his eyes and breathed. "You can do this." He muttered to himself around his swollen tongue and dry split lips. He moved his arms forward and pressed them against the wall and slowly tried to kneel up. His legs screamed and the muscles across his back began to spasm with the effort they were being forced to use.

Finally an elbow on the edge of the washbasin and a rest. A breather. Just take deep breaths. So close. Nearly there. He looked at the taps he needed to turn on now. That was it. That was all he needed to do. Simple. Turn the tap. That small little silver and plastic thing. Just grip it and turn it. He moved a hand over to the tap and willed the hand to grip the tap. He could feel the cold of the metal under his hand but no amount of squeezing his eyes together and begging them to hold the tap and turn it would make them do what he wanted.

Both hands. He could try to do it like that. Carefully he moved around so he was facing the side of the washbasin. Both arms now hooked onto the cold white porcelain and he tried with the other hand with even less luck. Both hands together and still they had no grip and just slid over the metal and plastic tap grip.

Mouth. Try to grip it with his teeth, but that would mean standing and he really didn't think that he could. Slowly though if he put the weight on his arms maybe he could manage it.

He thought he was going to make it. He just needed to straighten his legs just that bit more and lean forwards onto the basin and it would be done.

Spencer's body decided that it had had enough. It couldn't cope with being dragged and pulled and forced to do things it didn't want to do anymore. He felt the gradual shaking in his arms and down his back and then the muscles tighten across his abdomen. It felt suddenly like his head was being dragged backwards as his back arched and his knees buckled and as though in slow motion he fell backwards away from the washbasin.

Away from the wall.

Away from the rugs on the floor and onto the toilet attached to the wall next to him. It caught him across his lower back and his head carried on going until it smashed on the floor the other side of it. He was out cold instantly. Laying across the toilet bowl with his legs and arms shaking and a little splat of blood on the floor under his head eyes open staring up into nothing.

A fly landed on his face and crawled up around his eye.

* * *

_Agent Sands__: Ouch. _

* * *


	26. Chapter 26 James

Chapter 26

James

_Have the courage to live. Anyone can die: - __Robert Cody _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

He tried to flex what was left of his hands. The pain had died back to a dull throbbing and he was going to take the opportunity to try to pull the spike out of his stomach. Well at least out of the board it was pinned to. He also felt the bolt in his neck and considered pulling it out, but for now the spike – he needed to figure out how to do this.

Floyd began by slowly rocking the board to see how much of a gap there was between the back of the board and the ceiling. This would give him an approximate length for the spike and how much he had to remove to free himself. He didn't know how much time he had to do this. When James would be back? Was he still in the building? Was he watching this escape attempt? Floyd knew that had it been him he would be watching every wriggle and twist.

He rocked gently on his board and put his broken hands to his face. He needed to get the glue off his eyes. Not being able to close them and try to heal was holding things up. He picked cautiously at his eyelids and then over to the chains.

"Holding me up? If I can get to the chains – now my hands are free. Three inches of space between board and ceiling. I can get off this damned thing. I need to pull it six inches – a good average. The spike isn't against the ceiling thought, I can't feel it dragging or rubbing and so take that to five inches. But then the chains – if I cant get the spike out I will attempt the chain."

He blinked.

"Thank the gods of Pluto for that….I can close my damned eyes at last. Hands do your thing."

He was slightly aware that he was babbling to himself but right now it was helping him to keep the pain away. Keeping the board gently swinging seemed somehow soothing and made him feel less restricted. He placed one hand on the top of the stomach spike and the other he placed on his stomach and put the spike between his thumb and finger and he slowly and carefully began rocking the spike.

The motion began - in a very sickly and painful way – to become relaxing. He could the spike pulling and moving through his stomach and the out of his back. It had missed his spine – which was good. He thought about wiggling toes for a while but the pain in his ankles was holding that off for a bit…now…back and forth pushing and gently pulling.

"OK this isn't going to work. All I am managing to do is rip my stomach and lose blood." He watched it dripping down onto the spikes below him. He could hear the soft splotting sound as it dripped into the little puddle he was making. "The chains. I need to get to the chains." He put his hands to his mouth and then to the loop holding his neck in place. "You can come out." and he made the board rock harder and wrapped what was left of his hands around the 'U' spike and closed his eyes and pulled. He let out a long howl as he felt the skin on his hands rip and the bones grind together.

He didn't hear the small clink of something metal snapping.

-o-o-o-

So they had a face at last and they knew he liked a certain type of soap. The problem they had now was that he had bought a new supply of soap since the last victim was found. So either he was planning, or already had someone else. What they really needed was more info on the van. So the only hope was that he would turn up at the shop again…but that would mean another victim. For now they were stumped. The man had paid in cash. There was no paper trail.

-o-o-o-

When he woke up he was laying on his front on the floor next to the toilet. He had been laying on his right arm and it was completely numb. His left arm was bent at a funny angle at his side.

His head was pounding and it seemed he had been sick or drooling a lot – he knew he was laying on a floor somewhere and he knew he had been trying to get water but everything else was foggy. His back hurt and his feet were numb. He tried to move his left arm but there was something wrong with it. He could move his fingers slightly but only small twitches but the rest of his arm he couldn't move at all. He tried to roll slightly and get his right arm out from under him and it was know he realised that it was a dislocated shoulder causing the problem with his left arm.

Spencer cried in pain. So much pain in so little time. He wanted the pills. The pills on the other side of the door. He had to get to the door, but first water. His body was screaming for a drink. He managed to turn his head enough to look up at the impossible height of the washbasin and now his eyes drifted to the toilet.

"Oh god." He muttered. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to stop the images in his head, but he knew what he needed to do. He was out of options and the desire for a drink was now far out weighing anything else. He could if he gritted his teeth reach the toilet water from where he was. If he could just stay with the pain long enough to do it. Just dip his fingers in the water….and then suck the water off. That would help – it would give him some hope.

The pain of the movement pushed a grey cloud over his vision which he pushed back again with deep breaths. His arm was tingling and he had stabbing pains going up and down his arm where the nerves were coming back to life again. He moved a hand up and grabbed the edge of the toilet seat. He hand objected to the sudden pressure and started to shake and cramp, but that was fine. He just needed to find the water. Just dip his hand in the water and it would be good. The pain will go away and he will be able to get up and walk away. All he needed was that water.

The coldness wrapped around his fingers as they finally found the blue toilet water. Slowly – trying not to shake too much and lose the precious liquid he pulled his hand back. He watched mesmerised as the small drips fell from his hand. With a sigh he put his fingers into his mouth and sucked at them. His mouth was so dry and sticky and his tongue still damaged from the biting he had given it, that the slightly odd taste wasn't noticed. Just that he had moisture in his mouth at last.

He went again. Slowly and carefully putting his hand down into the water and the quicker on the return journey so as not to lose too much and his fingers to his mouth.

Spencer thought he was going to die of pleasure. He carried on doing this until his arm wouldn't move anymore. The vile stickiness on his tongue had gone now but there was dreadful stinging in the back of his throat and his stomach was beginning to cramp and twist. Spencer didn't know if it was the water or just the normal cramps he had been getting but for now he felt a bit better. His mission to get water was complete.

Now he needed to get to the door.

-o-o-o-

Floyd was getting frustrated. He had loosened the 'U' shaped thing around his neck but now his hand were bleeding even more and just sliding over the metal. He sucked on them trying to keep as much fluid in his body as possible. There was stuff dripping from around the stake in his stomach too and he wasn't too happy about the smell. He rested and hung from the board and chewed on the bones sticking out of his hands.

He didn't know how long he had been here. It was hours since he had been up on the ceiling. He knew that much, but he had no idea how long it was before he woke up. How long had Spencer been in that room? The one positive thing was that there was water. He wouldn't die of that, but he had been slowly giving him more and more of the drugs to kill his pain and relax his muscles…if he didn't have those he as probably in a bit of pain by now.

The room had things in it he could use to break the door in. The lock wasn't that sturdy. Or was it? Probably would be easier to kick it open than to pull it, which is what Spencer would have to do. But Floyd was happy that Reid was intelligent enough, even in the condition he was in to use the weights from the bench as a way to break the door in.

He closed his eyes and tried to get some sort of quick shot vision of what Spencer was doing and feeling.

The only thing he could feel was intense pain and the only thing he could see was the floor.

"Shit – this isn't going to plan." He put his hands to the thing across his neck and biting on his bottom lip and with his eyes closed he took a deep breath and pulled. The board swung to the side and as he screamed and the metal ripped from the board and his hands ripped and cracked…

something slipped. Slightly.

-o-o-o-

Hotch got the call that afternoon. It was from the store the UnSub had visited before. He had been back. This time he had purchased a small cheap digital camera. His van had been parked outside again and using the ruse to go and smoke the store-keepers wife had gone out front and got plate numbers. They passed the information on and Hotch in turn handed it over to Garcia.

"All you can get. As quickly as you can get it. I am hoping that because he uses the van for abductions that it will be legal. He wont want to risk being pulled over and not having the correct documents or it being reported stolen."

Garcia rattled over her computer keys inputting information and pulling up all she could on the owner of the van. She made a little squeak of happiness when she got what she needed.

"James Atherton. I have his address and I have a picture of his driving licence. It's definitely the same guy." Garcia grinned and handed over the printout to Hotch.

Aaron nodded and stood. "Let's go."

Nothing more needed to be said as the team rushed from the office. They had no idea if he had already picked up another girl. The ones he had chosen before had never actually been reported missing. It was likely that the one they suspected he had now wouldn't be either. For someone so who had planned things so carefully it was a puzzle as to why he kept returning to the same store.

They drove the half hour it took in a worried silence. They really needed to get there and try to stop this UnSub from repeating his games on someone new. Though the fact that there was now new victim that they knew of…and no more purchases that they knew of it was possible that he had someone and this is what he needed the camera for.

The SUV's pulled up outside row of small detached houses. Fenced off front yards and small porches. The whole area looked a bit tatty and run down but it was still quite a nice area. Grass verges with ruts where cars parked and on one of those verges was a large dark grey van. A quick check with the plates confirmed this was the right place.

Flak jackets were put on and the slid silently from the vehicles and through the gate towards the house. Morgan indicated that he would go around back and took a few armed officers off with him.

Hotch waited to give Morgan time to get around the back and Hotch indicated for someone to get the door open. No knocking - no warnings.

"FBI!"

The words echoed through the house but the banging sound from upstairs was definitely the sound of a door slamming.

Guns out signals made Hotch and Morgan walked slowly up the stairs whilst other followed and more spread out downstairs checking the rooms.

Room by room they checked. Under beds in closets and around corners.

It wouldn't have been the last room they checked but they did find him. Standing in a corner holding a plank of wood and shouting at them to keep back.

"Just put it down and face the wall." Morgan walked forward with his gun out whilst Hotch covered. "Put it down." Talking firmly. No argument. No discussion.

-o-o-o-

Reid wasn't sure exactly what was going on but it felt as though his throat was closing up on him. The horrendous burning in this mouth spread down his throat to his stomach. He tried again to get to the door. Dragging himself forwards on the one good arm he still hand yelping in pain each time he put pressure on his limbs or used a muscle that wanted to just tighten up and do nothing.

He was almost within in touching distance from the door when he realised that over his breathing and pounding of his heart and the rushing sounds in his ears there was a new sounds. A faint buzzing that wasn't there before. He was sure of it. He tried to focus on the door and get closer so he could work out what it was. Blocking the other sounds from his head he lay and listened.

"Insects." He whispered to himself and glanced at the tacky puddle of red which was on the floor. It had flies buzzing around it but not enough to make the noise he could hear. Somewhere there was something with a lot of flies over it.

He lay on the floor and tried to look under the gap. There was something there. It was hard to see what it was but it was definitely what was making the insects come over to play and it had been bleeding.

It was now that his stomach ejected the water Spencer had spent so much time and effort getting. It left his body in a bubbling greenish ooze. It burnt his mouth and tongue as his body rejected the bleach treated toilet water and he cried in pain as his stomach muscles clenched and released and his body started to shake again.

Spencer lay on the floor and hammered on the door. He wanted to shout and scream and call for help but he couldn't talk now. He could barely breathe and he knew if he fell asleep he would give up and fade into nothing. He banged his hand which had made its self into a fist against the door until the skin split on his knuckles.

-o-o-o-

They sat James at the interview table. They had found nothing in his house, but they did find bits of sawdust and woodchips in the van which had been sent to forensics.

Hotch sat at the table on the other side of him. Derek, Emily and David waited outside for now.

"Where is the other girl?"

"What other girl?"

"We know you have someone else."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"What was the camera for?"

"To take pictures with."

"I know you have another girl James, and I know that you have been practicing on the girls you dumped. I know that you are very particular about the soap you use and that you want them to look nice. But what I need to know James is where she is."

"I don't know what you are talking about. I don't have a girl."

"Where were you keeping them? Not in your house. So where James? You need to tell us – before it's too late."

James shook his head.

"Fine – fine – I took the girls…I washed their trashy little bodies and I pinned them to a board, but I don't have another. You are wrong there."

"Can you tell us where you took the girls so we can go and check you are telling us the truth?"

James shrugged. "If you want. I don't really care. You won't find a girl there though."

He gave them an address and then he was taken down to the cells for the night. As they slammed the door he walked slowly over to the bench and lay down. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head and smiled.

-o-o-o-

Something was wrong.

A sudden clanking noise and the board slew to the side.

Floyd's eyes darted around trying to work out what had happened.

"Shit – I can do without this." He put a hand on the spike in his stomach and grimaced. It was pulling horribly on it. He could feel something inside ripping. "Crap!"

He could feel the spikes rubbing against the bones in his hips and the one through his ankles pulling and making the bones grind together.

"Damn you James…Get your arse back here! I need – I need – SHIT! This hurts – you son of a whore – you win. Let me down. I need to get back to Spence. Get me off this fucking……………….."

He didn't finish the sentence - the chain suddenly snapped and the board fell onto the spikes below.

It made a crunching splat sound -

And a small sigh.

* * *

_Edward D. Wood, Jr.__: What happened?_

* * *


	27. Chapter 27 The Last Girl

Chapter 27

The Last Girl

_Tin Het: - Put that comment back /AA before I slap you._

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

It was a two hour drive to the location they had been given. They left in the SUV's and streamed down the freeway.

About half an hour into the journey they got caught in a jam of traffic tailing back they had no idea how far. Radio confirmed that there had been a pile up. All lanes had been closed – so it was sirens on and squeezing down through the traffic until they found a gap in the central barrier so they could escape into the empty road on the other side.

It held them up for a good half an hour but eventually they made it through the road blocks with their flashing lights and blasts of sirens and then they were back on the empty freeway racing towards a rescue – they hoped it was a rescue and not a body they were heading for.

They ended up in a very large mostly abandoned industrial estate. Huge empty warehouses and smaller buildings all stuck together in a massive industrial ghetto.

Old newspapers blew across the road and birds picked at things in the dirt. The precise location wasn't known. They just had a general idea but the Unsub had said it was a mainly white building on the south side.

The vehicles drove in the direction they needed and slowed down and then stopped.

"There are no white buildings." Morgan stated the obvious. All along the south side it was small low prefab buildings and all painted a greyish green. Not even if you squinted could they be described as white.

Hotch got out of the SUV and put on a pair of shades. "We need to check it out, but this place hasn't been disturbed for some time." Debris had built up against the doors and boards where hammered over what used to be the windows.

No sign of life. Nothing.

"Split into pairs. We need to search the whole place."

And so the search began. They suspected it was some sort of carpentry work shop as there had been no signs of sawdust or wood crafts of any kind at the house.

They ended up entering every building on the site and there was no sign of anything.

The team gathered back together again at dusk. Morgan was fit to rip someone's limbs off and Hotch's face was set hard. It was Rossi who spoke.

"Well he just made us waste a whole day."

Prentiss kicked at the dirt. "Unless it is here and we are just missing it. Should we not double check everything. The thought that we are so close and missing it – well."

-o-o-o-

He could feel the new spikes. There was one in his chest and one in the side of his face. He thought that there might have been one in his upper leg too and the small amount of movement he had left let him know that the spikes next to his hips and jolted downwards and as a result ripped his hips from the sockets and crushed his pelvis. His left arm was impaled to his side but his right arm was free. The bolt in his neck had pushed further in and Floyd was a bit annoyed now.

"James you bastard, you better get your arse back here soon. I am bleeding out here. I only just healed up once. My repairs pool is pretty low."

-o-o-o-

There was someone talking to him, but his eyes were glued together with muck that had collected and the side of his face seemed to have welded its self to the floor. The voices were mutterings but he couldn't work out what they were saying to him.

He could feel flies landing on his face and crawling around his eyes and buzzing around his ears and moving around the foam which had bubbled out of the corners of his mouth. Something was slowly making it's way over and around his nose and now his fingers. On his knuckles where the skin had split. He tried to move his arm and cross it over his face to protect him self a bit better from the onslaught but he couldn't force his body to do what this mind was telling it to do any longer. He could feel the door against his back and he could smell something – decomp – what ever it was the other side of the door was very dead and very rotting.

All Spencer could hope now was that it wasn't Floyd and that he would remember he was here and come back for him, but in his heart he knew. He knew that no one was coming back and he knew that was Floyd on the other side of the door. He could think of no logical reason Floyd would have done this to him, not after all the hard work he had put into getting him moving and thinking and talking again. He wouldn't just leave him here to die.

Spencer wanted to lick his dry cracked bleeding lips but he knew if he opened his mouth the flies would get in and he knew also that his mouth was so burnt from the stuff he had drunk, even though it was only a tiny amount that he wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway and the risk that whatever had been in his mouth would touch his sore mouth wasn't worth the risk. He could feel where liquid had oozed out and down the side of his face and he could feel it burning.

He started shaking again and the more he shook and his skin released the final bit of water it had left the flies came. They crawled over his exposed skin and found every damp fold and crevice that they could. They made their way into his hair and into his ear and as the shaking subsided the choking gagging feeling began and he coughed and it made his head explode with agony he didn't think possible to have and still be alive. He wanted to scream out in defiance of what was happening but all he could do was lay there against the door listening to the flies.

-o-o-o-

They returned to the precinct to have another word with James at an almost breakneck speed.

He was awake and waiting in the interview room when they got there.

"You didn't find here did you?" James looked smug.

Hotch sat on the other side of the table and Morgan just inside the door. "You know full well we didn't."

"There is not girl to find so it doesn't really matter where I send you."

"I know you think this is a game. I know you are finding this amusing, I also know that you have someone else – somewhere."

"Well Mr Agent – what makes you so damned sure there is another girl?"

"You bought a fresh lot of soap for each victim. There have been three so far and you have four lots of soap."

"That you know of."

Morgan clenched his teeth and shifted his weight but stayed silent.

"That we know of. I know that you are good with your hands and that you like creating things. I know that the first two attempts went wrong and you killed the girls too soon. I know that there is no sexual motivation behind it. It's purely for aesthetic purposes. I know that you are impaling your victims like you would a butterfly which is why you carefully washed them down and redressed them and even applied make up. I know that your last victim was in her self a success. But I am curious as to why you didn't keep her. Was she still a test run for someone else?"

James blinked.

"I see. So you have someone specific in mind for your next victim. Someone about five foot ten and average build. The weight seemed important to you."

He blinked again.

"You have someone James. I know you do. You don't want her to die do you? No food and water. Bleeding. Surely you don't want your creation to die on you."

"I told you – I don't have a girl."

"Then prove it Where is your workshop? Where did you take the other girls? We know you did it. You have told us you did, so why not just tell us?"

"Well you know what? I don't think I feel like divulging that big of information. You're the profilers – you figure it out."

-o-o-o-

He lay and took some deep breaths. They made bubbling noises and brought the taste of blood into his mouth. The weight of the board on his back was making sure he couldn't push up off the spikes he was laying on. He managed to free his good hand but now had no idea what he was going to do with it.

Floyd was beginning to get a bit worried that James wasn't going to come back for him. But that was ridiculous. Why go to all this trouble and leave him. Obviously he would be back. The same as he would be back for Reid. He knew if he didn't get out of this mess soon then Spencer would be dead. Assuming no one went looking for him. And William was there still slowly rotting on the other side of the door. Damnit and he had so wanted to see the look on Spencer's face when he showed him what he had done. He gripped the edge of the board with his hand and tried pushing upwards off the spikes but that would have meant using his legs and that was not possible right now. Rocking to the side and roll off them? Cant do that because of the damned thing nailed to his back.

He tried calling for help but he found that shouting was not going to work right now. He tried to see what Spencer was doing. Maybe he could back track with him and get him to come get this thing off, but all he could see there was darkness and all he could feel was pain and all he could hear was a buzzing sound and his fear that he might have killed Spencer brought angry tears to his eyes.

There was one thing left he could try. See where James was. Try to do what he used to do to Spence and force him to come back. But that took a lot of preparation and he didn't know James as well as he had Spencer back then but he really could think of nothing else right now.

Floyd closed his eyes and slowed down his heart and breathing. He pulled back from where he was and brought up the image of James in his mind.

_Where are you?_

_What the fuck are you doing? _

_Get back here._

He concentrated harder. He needed to see what James was seeing to be able to do this right.

_Come on – let me see what you are seeing._

_Open up for me James._

_Where are you?_

_What can you see?_

He wanted to shake the image out of his head. Out of him mind. Something had gone wrong. He could see Hotchner. Floyd blinked. Hotchner. What the hell was he doing with Hotchner. He forced James to look around the room. He could feel the resistance but it was a bit pathetic. Derek Morgan. An interview room. What the fuck was going on. He wanted to listen in, but he didn't know this James person very well and it would take more than he had right now to be able to get sound.

He saw that Hotchner had put something on the table. James was looking down at it. Photographs of dead girls. Nice. But not much use really. He saw Hotchner pointing out various things on the photos. The shoulders and the hips. The dead girls had similar injuries to himself. But only he wasn't dead. Not quite and not yet.

_James – tell them where I am._

He knew the guy had heard him. His head snapped up and he rubbed at his temples.

_Just tell them. They know what you did. _

He wanted to force the words out of his mouth. Force his hand into telling them, but he couldn't. He didn't know him well enough and he was in too much pain himself to concentrate for too long. For long enough to make James tell them.

The image slowly faded again as he lost the fragile connection. He tried again for Reid and got pain and darkness and the noise but nothing else. He needed someone to go and find him.

_Go and find him Hotchner._

But he new the message was too weak to be heard or even felt.

Now he needed to try to heal a bit and hope that the fuckup called James would tell Hotchner where he was.

"Ah shit – that's not why you are there is it James? They're not looking for me. Then what the hell is going on?"

The words were whispered as he gripped hold of the edge of the board and let his body try to heal. He could feel the wetness he was laying in and he needed to force his body into replacing those fluids.

-o-o-o-

"The North District Warehouse Development."

Hotch looked up at James. "Pardon? Is that the location."

"You still won't find what you are looking for. There is not girl."

Hotch jumped to his feet. "This time you are coming with us."

Morgan rushed forwards and pulled James to his feet. "Get a move on."

"There is no hurry. There is no girl."

"Well I want to see that for myself." And Morgan was pushing a cuffed James out of the room.

They were directed by James to a large warehouse area. They pulled up outside a big white building.

"In there." He shrugged over towards the door.

They decided to leave James behind with a few armed cops and then with flak jackets on and guns out ready they made their way towards the building. Unlike the other place they had visited this one had obviously been used. The doorway was clear of mess but was securely locked. Hotch looked at Morgan who put a boot to the door and popped it open fairly easily. They glanced back at James who wasn't even looking in their direction.

The place smelt of dirt with a faint after tinge of wood dust. The torches cut through the darkness as they walked slowly around the large room. There didn't seem to be anything here. A few packing crates on their sides and some boarding leaning against a wall but that was all. A small door in the rear wall led to what would have been a cramped office. There was nothing else here.

"He's done it again. Directed us to nothing."

Hotch lowered his flashlight and looked over at Derek. "No – we are missing something. We are in the right place. Check behind those things…there must be another door in here. The door was off centre on the exterior and is centre of this room." Hotch and Morgan walked to the suspect wall and pulled down the boards which were leaning against it. A door. A sturdy metal door which was bolted on the outside.

"Well he is hiding something or he wouldn't have bolted it. Or he is keeping something in." Hotch slid the bolt over.

The door opened silently inwards.

The view from the open door way was just a large empty space. They could see on the floor some empty soap bottles and the end of a hose laying near a long handled brush. Hotch looked at Morgan who raised an eyebrow. It looked like they had the right place anyway. They stepped into the room with guns pointing at the floor. To the right of them was a mess.

For a second they stood looking puzzled. Chains hung from the ceiling underneath them was an eight foot long four foot wide mess of wood metal and blood.

"Sonofabitch." Morgan started to walk slowly forwards. Hotch put a hand on his shoulder.

"Careful – gloves." He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and passed them to Morgan who was already pulling on a pair.

"What the hell has he done to her? What is that?" The two of them walked forwards. They could now see the hammered bent spikes in the back of the board on the top. Most of them had smears of blood on them. "Christ what's he done to her?"

Slowly he walked around to the other side of the contraption. He looked down at broken blood covered hand holding onto the edge of the board. Morgan stood and looked down at it and then crouched. He pulled the fingers away from where they had locked into place around the edge of bottom board.

"Ah oh god." Morgan jumped back with a look of absolute horror on his face.

"Morgan?" Hotch moved around quickly to see what had happened.

"She's still alive. I think. Her hand is warm."

Morgan lay down in the muck next to the board and took the hand again.

"It's OK help is on the way. We are here now. You're going to be fine." He could see how the hand was broken and fingers were missing. It made his stomach turn over thinking about the pain this person was going through and how in all honesty he couldn't see how she had survived this long. Too much blood loss. Too much damage. He looked at the hand as the pale bloody remains of the fingers curled around his own blue gloved ones. Morgan looked up at Hotch who was taking in the scene trying to work out what had happened.

The grip the fingers hand on Derek's was surprisingly strong. "Just hang on there. Can you talk to me? Tell me your name?"

The reply made Derek drop the hand again and jump up and away from it.

"Agent Derek Morgan. Leave me. Go help Spence."

* * *


	28. Chapter 28 Heal

Chapter 28

Heal

_God gave men both a penis and a brain, but unfortunately not enough __blood__ supply to run both at the same time__: - __Robin Williams _

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

* * *

They exchanged glanced and then both crouched down and looked under the board.

"Flanders?" Hotch didn't know if he could trust his ears.

"Hotchner. Go find Spencer." The voice was weak and a bit muffled and odd but it was clear to them who it was. Morgan stood up and shone the flashlight around the room. There were no other doors, only the one they entered by and apart from this thing on the floor and hose and a couple of other items the room was devoid of anything. Not even a packing crate.

"Floyd." Hotch was still crouching and now put a hand over Floyd's. "You need to tell us where Reid is."

There was no answer.

"There is nothing else in here." Morgan was running to the door. "I'll get the medics and the someone to get that off him, and go talk to James."

Morgan bounded through the door and then paused shining the flashlight around the room again. There were packing crates and bits stacked up. He needed to get James to tell him what the hell he had done with Reid or get people in here quickly to find him. He raced through the building and out of the door – shouting for EMT's and someone to help get the thing off Floyd's back. He then made his way to the car with James sitting in it looking out of the window away from the building.

He pulled the car door open.

"Where's Reid you sonofabitch?"

James turned slowly to look at Morgan. "Who?"

"Reid. What've you done with him?"

A shrug. "Sorry I have no idea what you are going on about."

"Get out of the car." A snarl.

He slid across the seat and got out into the night time air.

"You found her then?" A smirk.

Morgan shook his head. "Yes we found him – where's the other one?"

Again a shake of the head and a slightly confused expression for just the smallest of moments. "There isn't anyone else. Ask Floyd. He knows he's the only one." A smile this time. "Doesn't he look fantastic up there though? What did you think? He is quite beautiful."

"Right now I am not really interested in what is happening to Floyd. I need to know where Reid is."

Again a small frown. "I don't know anyone called Reid."

Morgan grabbed James by the front of his shirt and pulled him so close they were almost touching noses. "You will tell me what you did to him – or I will cause you a lot of pain."

"Hurt me all you want. I don't have your Reid. I only took Floyd."

Morgan pushed James away from him and looked over at the armed cops. "Get him back in the car." And he ran back to see what was going on with Hotch and Floyd.

There was a crowd of guys around the thing on the floor now. They had tools to bend metal and slowly were trying to unhook the bent spikes on the back of the board.

Morgan stood next to Hotch. "Has he said anything else?"

"No – nothing. Did James tell you where Reid is?"

A head shake and a hand rubbing the back of his head. "No – and I don't think he knows either. I'm going back to their place to see if I can pick up any clues."

Hotch nodded. "I want Prentiss here. Go with Rossi."

The men parted company as Morgan ran for the SUV and called over to Rossi what was going on.

-o-o-o-

They pulled up outside the place Floyd and Spencer had been living. The windows where dark and there was newspapers and other rubbish blowing across the yard.

Morgan instinctively knew that something was very wrong. The whole scene was wrong. He looked over a Rossi who was also taking in the scene.

"You said he was still not able to get around properly, so I doubt he has been outside and we don't know how long Flanders had been gone."

Morgan took the keys from the ignition and opened the car door. "I just don't like the feel of it. It just feels wrong."

Rossi got out of the car and closed the door. Morgan got out of his side and pressed the button to close the door. "There should at least be a light on. He wouldn't stay in there in the dark."

"Maybe he's not here. Flanders didn't actually say he was here."

They started to walk towards the front door. "He didn't even know who Reid was. I could tell. I really don't think he knew what I was talking about."

The two of them stood in front of the front door. Rossi raised his hand to the door bell. It made a faint buzzing sound somewhere deep inside the house. They stood and listened. There was nothing. No sounds of movement and no one calling back. Rossi used the bell again as Morgan put his hand onto the door latch and opened the door.

The smell repelled him and Rossi put a hand to his nose and mouth.

They both stepped back a bit and pulled out firearms.

"Something in there has been dead for a good few days." Rossi said as he took a step forwards. "Morgan – cover me." and Rossi walked into the darkness of the small house.

Rossi knew that Morgan had a much stronger connection for Reid than he did and for his sake he wanted to be the one to find the body. Morgan really didn't need to see this.

Derek followed Rossi into the house knowing full well what was going on in the older agents head. He knew he was trying to protect him from something but nothing would ever take the smell away from Morgan's mind. That would stay. It would cling to his skin and he would find it behind his finger nails and he would smell it in his sweat. He prayed it was a dead animal.

And now there was the sound. A low humming of insects. Lots of insects. The flashlights lit up the wall in front of Rossi. He could see blood spray up the wall and over the door in front of him and on the floor what was obviously a decaying body. It was laying naked and facing away from them. Both men could clearly see this had been a person, but as for gender or age it was hard to tell. It was covered in creatures. Flying and crawling and scuttling and buzzing and squeaking. There were rat droppings on the floor and now the flies were buzzing around Morgan and Rossi.

"We need CSU in here." Rossi turned to Morgan. "This might not be Reid. Search the other rooms. I will call a unit in."

Morgan felt huge guilt at just wanting to get away from this and what made it worse in his mind was that he couldn't even blame Floyd this time. He wouldn't have told them to come and help if he knew he was – dead. A fist made contact with a door.

"Just look around Derek. Stay focused."

The lounge was strange. It was as though no one ever actually used it. The pictures on the walls were cheap and the furniture was new but not very good quality. Just for show. In case someone came around. Reid's chair was over corner. There was a light coating of dust over everything. Not even any finger prints in the dust. Morgan was careful not to touch anything as he looked around the room trying to see if there was something obviously out of place. He shone his flashlight around the walls and floor, but it was just a room with no outstanding features in it at all. It didn't feel like a place Floyd would have spent any time. There were no books and now Morgan noted the lack of ashtrays or anything else to do with his smoking. No butts ground into the floor. No ash dropped anywhere. It was wrong. The whole room was wrong.

He could hear Rossi talking on the phone as his flashlight picked out a door on the other side of the room. He walked slowly and carefully over to it. Still mindful not to touch anything. There was a strange flickering light coming from under the door. Like a television was on. But there was no sound.

"Rossi – I think I might have found something."

He placed his hand on the handle and slowly turned. His gun in the other hand ready. He pushed the door open to reveal a small office. On the wall directly in front of him was a wide screen television playing a news program. All along the desk below the television was a bank of computer screens all showing different parts of the house.

"What have you got there?" Rossi said from behind Derek. Morgan walked further into the room so as to let Rossi in and to get a better look at the screens. They showed the front of the house and the rear. It showed a large opulent bedroom and the lounge and hallway and the room he had seen Reid in on the visit with Hotch. That room had three monitors alone. One was focused on the bed. One was on the area around the couch and the final one was focused on the toilet.

Morgan moved his hand to the final screen. "What does that look like to you?" he touched the monitor where the camera was picking up something on its periphery.

Rossi moved in and looked closer. "A foot? Is that a foot?"

"Ah hell!" Derek nearly pushed Rossi over in his rush to get from the room. "That's not Reid! He's in the damned room the other side of that door!"

-o-o-o-

They managed to bend all the spikes back so they could pull the wooden board off Floyd's back.

Hotch had spent the time they were doing that holding what was left of Floyd's hand and talking to him. He got the occasional movement of the fingers but no more words. It was almost as though it hadn't happened.

"We're gonna pull it up and off him now." One of the emergency team members told Hotch.

He nodded. "This might hurt. "god what a stupid thing to say. How can it hurt more than it is? The fingers however gripped hold of Hotch. He looked down at the mangled hand and could see bone protruding from where fingers should have been. The wood made a grinding scraping sound as it was hauled up off Floyd's back. The hand gripped harder.

"Holy hell." One of the EMT's muttered at what he saw. "You say he's still alive?"

Hotch frowned at him. "Very." But he too couldn't believe what he was seeing and had no idea how they were going to get him off the multitude of spikes impaling him without tearing him virtually in half.

The medical crew stood and looked at the sight in front of them. One of them moved forward and looked at the spike sticking out of the side of Floyd's face.

Hotch walked to the other side of him so he could see his face. He knelt on the floor and pushed hair off his face and away from his mouth. "Ok Floyd. You are going to tell us what to do."

Floyd raised an eyebrow. "Get me the fuck off these spikes." A breath – which Hotch could see was hurting him. "Start with my feet. Go get Spence."

It was with complete disbelief that the medics heard Floyd's voice.

"How is he still conscious?"

"Just do what he said. Start with the feet and work your way up – somehow."

Carefully they moved Floyd's legs so that they could see what was the other side of the spike sticking out of his ankles. "I think we need to leave this one until we get him to the hospital. I'll try to get the one out of his thigh." They left his feet and moved up.

"No – no – get them in order. I need my feet."

The medic moved up to where Floyd could see him. "Sir, your ankles are smashed. It will be safer for you if we leave it as it is and let the surgeons deal with it at the hospital. They will be more able to remove it."

"Just pull it out. I'm not going to hospital. Just get the spikes out so I can go get Spencer."

"Sir it's not as easy as you seem to think it is. Some of these are probably stopping your from bleeding. We cant just pull them out."

"Hotchner – get Spencer. You bloke with the pinny on….get the spike out of my feet. Just pull the mother out. I will deal with the pain and bleeding."

"Morgan is getting Spencer. You need to worry about you. Let them worry about Spencer for now."

Floyd ignored Hotch. "Are you going to release my feet?"

"I told you sir – it needs to be done in surgery."

He pulled both arms up next to his head.

"Floyd what the hell are you doing?" Hotch put a hand on the hand nearest to him.

"I'll do it myself. Tell them to fuck off. I don't need them. I didn't ask for their help. I don't want them here." And he pushed up and pulled the spike out of his face.

The EMT's where there in a flash. "No – no sir please don't do that."

But he carried on pushing upwards now as blood poured from his face and now he pushed himself up off the spike going through his chest.

"Hotchner! Hold me here."

Aaron stood straddling Floyd and put his arms around his chest. "Tell me what you need me to do." Hotch could feel Floyd's heart thumping and the strange bubbling feeling as the air seeped out of the bloody hole in his chest.

"Hotchner." Floyd's voice was getting quieter. "On three. One – Two – Three – Pull!"

-o-o-o-

Morgan carefully moved around the body on the floor and pulled back the lock on the door. He hammered on the door. "Reid. Reid it's Morgan." There was no answer. He turned the handle and gently pushed the door with his fingers. It was stuck. "Reid open the door it's just me." He pushed at the door again.

There was something blocking the doorway. Derek turned to Dave. "Is there an ambulance on the way?"

"It's on its way. What's going on there?"

"I think he's on the floor the other side of the door."

Rossi nodded. "Move back – let me do it." Morgan didn't move. "Derek – it's OK. Just move out of the way and let me do this. Go see if the ambulance is here yet and the CSU."

Derek stepped back over the body on the floor and let Rossi take his place. "I'll .."

"You will go outside and make sure they know where to come." Rossi shouldered the door. He felt it give slightly and then stick again. There was definitely something there and he didn't want Derek to be the one to find it. Another hard shove and the gap in the door was big enough for him to slide through.

It was as they had both suspected. Reid had been blocking the door. Rossi pushed his fingers through his hair and then bent down over the fly covered form on the floor. It didn't smell. Yet. He put his fingers gently on the side of Spencer's neck and frowned. A hand on his back let him feel the small uneven breaths being taken.

He knelt on the floor next to him. "Reid – its Rossi. Can you hear me?" There was nothing and now Derek was pushing his way through the gap. Rossi looked up at him. "Get some water." And then he carefully turned Spencer over onto his back. "Derek – this doesn't look good. Where are the medics?" He swatted the flies away from him and tried to get him away from the door. Spencer left a trail of drool and green slime behind him.

Derek was looking frantically around for something to put water in. He finally took a pile of tissues and soaked them. He handed it to Rossi. "Best I could do."

"It's fine. This will do good." Rossi dripped water over Reid's mouth

"What's wrong with his mouth?" A small shake of the head. "It looks like he's been poisoned – I'm not sure. Burns of some kind. Derek the medics – go and show them where we are."

"I'll let Hotch know we have him." Rossi continued to drip water into Reid's mouth and finally got a response as Reid moistened his lips and moved a hand up to touch the person with him.

-o-o-o-

Hotch's phone rang in his jacket pocket but he couldn't take it as both hands were holding a screaming swearing Floyd in place. "Someone get my phone." Hotch looked over at one of the stunned medics. "If you cant help here then answer my phone for me."

"Fuck shit bastard Hotchner keep me still Christ this hurts – you sonofabitch James you son of a whore"

"Put the phone on speaker." Hotch tried to keep Floyd from wriggling from his grip.

"It's Rossi. We have Reid and the medics are with him now. I would like to know who the body is though."

"Fuck! I forgot about him. Shit don't let Spencer see it. Crap. Hold me still for – Hotchner don't let me fall back."

"I won't. Who is the body Floyd?"

"Er – later. Get Spencer to hospital. His meds are in the desk…SHIT! What was that? I'm going to be sick out of an orifice. Can't tell which."

Floyd's hands were holding the blunt end of the spike in his stomach. Without warning he grabbed it and pulled.

The blood squirted out with it and hit the floor and splashed back up into Floyd's face. Hotch felt him tense in his grip and then sort of sag as he passed out. Hotch just held on. He wasn't sure what was going on. He didn't think he had ever known Floyd to pass out with pain.

"Pull him off the other spike now and turn him over."

"I'll get a gurney." The medic began to back away from the mess in front of her. There were bones sticking through his shoulders and his hips were misaligned. His face was torn, his hands had bits missing his feet looked like they would detach from his legs if they took the spike out and the guy was still alive.

Hotch looked up at her and then back to Floyd. "Leave him – I'll sort him…Thank you – you can go."

-o-o-o-

They stuck lines in Reid's arms and they put a tube down this throat to help with the breathing. "Chemical burns." Rossi was told. Later when they went over the footage of what had happened to Reid they saw how it happened. It made Garcia cry to watch and she held her coffee in one hand and a small pink teddy in the other.

"Oh god Spencer. We didn't know you were there alone." Big tears crept down her face.

The monitors weren't recording other locations, just the room Reid was in.

They took the body away and started the process of identifying it. Floyd wasn't talking. He just lay and tried to heal enough, but as Hotch sat with him and watched he could see Floyd was having problems.

Blood samples were taken from the door and floor and walls.

Hotch picked Floyd up and put him in the back of his car. He didn't take him back to Floyd's place he took him to his own. "No point in arguing. I need to keep you in my sight and I need to know who that body was.

Floyd looked up at Hotch from the spare room bed he was laying on. He could smell Spencer and it made him happy.

"William Reid. I ripped his balls off then fed them to him."

"Reid's father?"

"I'm not talking to you about it. It's private. It's between Spencer and I and it needs to stay that way. Now leave me…I am trying to heal us both – and I need to concentrate."

-o-o-o-

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_The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life: - __Richard Bach _

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**A/N: end of this little bit. This isn't a hospital drama and so I wont be doing hospital stuff….sorry.**

**Unless I do a little epilogue….but I will carry it on in next fic anyway…just feeling that this has gotten a bit longggggggggggggg….Thank you all for R&R's **

**Reviews are love :cD Pb tin xox**

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